Escape from Diamond City
by Epiphany Paige
Summary: Small town farmgirl Deirdre Doran has found herself in deep trouble - her boss is actually a slave trading drug lord, and he's found out she's been breaking the rules. Now she must race to find and protect her family before all of them are dead...or worse. (ZoroxOC, T for violence, minor character death, romantic themes, & mild language. Cover art by me. Please comment/review!)
1. Prologue - I Took a Chance

**A/N: I wrote a really self indulgent fic and if you guys are interested I _might_ continue with it? I should stop starting longform fanfics**

* * *

Zoro was not having a good day. You'd think that finally heading back to Saobody Park after two long years to be reunited with his captain and crew would be enough to lift his spirits—but the trip back was making him more than impatient.

Perona especially. It was kind of her to escort him there, he supposed grudgingly, but it didn't mean he had to like it. He'd already spent nearly two years in the same castle with her—he didn't really want to spend any more. A fledgling respect had grown between them while they lived in Mihawk's castle, sure, but not much more than that. And as the time to return home approached, his tension grew ever higher.

The past few months had been the worst. The deadline Luffy had given was slower than dirt in getting here, and now there was ( _finally_ ) only two months left. He'd just barely finished his training under Mihawk three days ago, and he was getting antsy. According to the map and Perona, it would take almost the entire two months to get back to Saobody. (It would have taken less if they both didn't have to avoid Marine bases and ships—but he had a feeling it was best to stay low for now—but it was still _beyond_ irritating to have Perona constantly reminding him of it.)

Today was just another in a long line of irritations. They'd missed their boat (thanks to the hurricane that almost sunk their previous one), so they were stuck on this miserable island until the next one came tomorrow morning.

Normally, Zoro would have been all for a day of rest—but the thought of seeing his crewmates again was a powerful one, and made him eager to keep moving.

Perona had found a hotel for them, one that didn't ask too many questions but didn't stink to high heaven (a hard combination to find). After reassuring her that he could get directions back if needed, Zoro had let his himself wander out of the little port town. Maybe it was the fact he was going to be stuck here far longer than intended, but he found the town disproportionately stifling.

The surrounding woods were tall and thin, more pipe cleaners than trees, but crowded together like gossiping housewives. It had just rained, leaving deep puddles and streaming rivulets in the uneven road—now more mud than dirt. The afternoon sun was hidden by the still-present (but much thinner) rainclouds, sending out the occasional stray beam of sunlight. Even to his one good eye, everything looked sharp and clear, like a photograph from a high-end den-den mushi.

He kept walking for a good hour, subconsciously noting every difference between this forest and the mangrove of the Saobody Archipelago. This one was bluer, thinner, and had less of a presence, but it was just as welcoming.

That is, until he was attacked by a wild dog.

Zoro had seen the beast approaching up the path for a few minutes now—it and the small group of skuzzy-looking men accompanying it. He hadn't considered it to be a particularly wild dog at first, either—for one thing, it was pulling a cart piled high with large boxes (and a few of the men). It was _huge_ , though, nearly four feet tall at the shoulder—all red-and-white fur and dark eyes.

He hadn't really paid attention to it—just kept his hand idly on the hilt of his sword as they approached. If he had looked a little closer, he would have noticed the odd glint in the dog's eyes as it looked him up and down; the way its ears swiveled in his direction; the way it held still for just a moment, as if thinking.

And then it pounced, growling—taking the sled with it. Boxes and men went flying, landing with a splat into the mud.

Now _that_ , he saw. In an instant Wado Ichimonji was in his hand, blocking the dog's claws just before they slashed at his chest. He parried, but the dog moved incredibly fast for something its size. It dodged another blow, the ropes attaching it to the sled falling slack.

Great, he'd cut it loose.

The men shouted, scrambling out of the mud. One or two of them tried to get between Zoro and the dog, while the rest were preoccupied with the fallen boxes and toppled sled.

"Doran, the hell d'you think you're doing?" One man bellowed, trying in vain to grab the dog's tail.

Doran dodged him easily, bolting back to attack Zoro again—this time its fangs missed his head by a fraction of an inch.

"Play along," it hissed in his ear as it passed, and his eye widened in shock. A zoan user?

"He threatened me," the dog barked, giving Zoro an almost imperceptible wink. "I need to take him down a few pegs." Doran spoke clearly now, and he could tell it was a girl's voice. What was her plan?

"Doran, Zima'll have your hide if you make us late to the deal—" the man replied, but was cut off as Zoro leapt back towards her, two swords out now. He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but if this dog-girl wanted a fight, she'd get one.

They sparred for a minute, Zoro watching suspiciously as Doran held back imperceptibly. A misplaced paw here, a snap of the jaws a millisecond too slow there—just enough so that if it did land, it wouldn't do much damage. A few of the men pulled their guns and tried to help, but ended up getting slashed for their trouble.

He grunted in irritation. Just how weak did these people think he was?

"Don't waste my time," he growled, and landed a harsh blow across her side, knocking her back into the (newly restacked) boxes with such force that they splintered open. Their contents spilled out into the mud—a suspicious amount of pills for boxes labeled 'canned fruit.'

The men cursed, scrabbling to scoop them up.

"Doran! Kill that bastard!" The man from before yelled. "He just ruined half our shipment!"

She rose slowly from the splintered wood, panting. "Told you he was bad news. Don't worry, though, I got this."

"You better," he griped, putting his unexpectedly useless pistol away. "Just show up for the deal on time."

"Yeah, whatever."

Zoro looked at her doubtfully as the men gathered what pills they could and ran off. She looked over her shoulder, turning back once the coast was clear and wagging her tail.

"You fight pretty well, stranger."

He sheathed his swords, no longer unnerved by a human voice coming from a dog's body.

"Wait—you don't wanna keep going?" she asked, tilting her head. "It was just getting fun."

Zoro repressed a sigh.

* * *

After the swordsman stalked off, Deirdre made her way to the meeting point—an abandoned house in the middle of the woods. Even if she hadn't memorized the map, it would have been easy enough to follow Krupin's scent trail. She stayed in her dog form, since it was faster, only stopping to shift back (and change into her clothes) once she was within two hundred feet of her destination. She dragged her hair into a hasty ponytail as the house came into view.

It was more of a shack than a house, and obviously hadn't been lived in for more than a decade. Krupin and the rest of her unofficial wardens were waiting by the door, holding what was left of the shipment in their shirts. A surge of pride and contempt rose in her chest as she took in the effects of her handiwork.

"'Sup, guys?" she called, stretching as she got within range of them.

Her mother's advice rose to her mind once again: _When dealing with enemies, don't show weakness. Make them think you're completely at ease. Every once in a while, remind them why they shouldn't mess with you._

She'd done pretty well at it so far, she thought. Even without a real plan, too. She just needed an opening, something that slimeball Popov wouldn't see coming…

A few of her wardens grumbled, busy counting what was left of their stock. Krupin stood from his perch on a stone as she approached, his arms folded.

"Did you take care of that swordsman?" he asked expectantly. Deirdre rolled her eyes.

"'Course I did. Don't you trust me, Krupin?"

He frowned. "No, frankly, I don't."

She shrugged. "Well, doesn't matter. Popov's the one that calls the shots. 'S long as I keep him happy, you're stuck with me."

Deirdre couldn't help but smirk, thinking of the shattered boxes and bruised bodies she'd caused not an hour ago. Luckily for her, the smugness translated well for her façade.

"Don't remind me," he muttered.

With Krupin's mood effectively soured, the six of them opened the door and walked in. Deirdre discreetly grabbed the first aid kit from the shortest man, giving him a glare. The cut on her cheek was beginning to sting.

It took a moment for Deirdre to recall who they were meeting with. Kerrim? Curtis? Crow? No, that wasn't it…

"You're late," a voice said from a dark corner of the room, making the hair on her arms stand on end. Her eyes darted to the spot, dragged by the pull of this stranger's sheer power. It wasn't quite as strong as the swordsman's, but still _far_ out of Krupin and the boys' league.

Carrow, she remembered suddenly. That was his name. If this Carrow guy got aggressive, it was likely to end in blood. Lots of blood. Possibly hers. As entertaining as it would be to see Krupin get the daylights beat out of him, she didn't think she wanted to risk her own skin to witness it.

So she sat on a windowsill (the glass long since gone) and opened the first aid kit idly, keeping one eye on the three people in the back of the room.

Two men, one woman-and all three of them were stronger than her companions (she grimaced at the word "companions"; they were the least friendly people she could ever hope to work with). And they could probably take her out too, especially if they worked as a team.

They were all surprisingly short (as were most of the other people on this island), maybe four feet tall and burly, with some mean-looking guns held loosely at their sides. The guns she could likely avoid. Probably.

"Sorry about that, Carrow," Krupin began. "We got held up a bit on the way here."

"Not our problem," the man in the middle said. Deirdre assumed this was Carrow—he was dressed slightly better than his two companions, and had a bigger gun. There was a duffel bag on the floor beside him, probably filled with cash for the deal.

"No, of course not," Krupin backtracked. Deirdre could see him trying to figure out how to break the bad news about the pills.

"But, uh, we might have a different problem," he said. "During that holdup, uh…well, see for yourself." He gestured to the other five men, who were still carrying the pills in their shirts.

Carrow stalked over to the group, eyes narrowed as he took it all in.

"You mean to tell me," he started slowly, voice low and dangerous. "That you were not only late to our deal, but you only brought _less than_ _half the shipment_?"

"I-it was this swordsman's fault," Krupin stammered. "He attacked us on our way here, even almost killed Doran here." he gestured to Deirdre, who was busy applying bandages to her wounds.

She rolled her eyes, but kept quiet. Better not risk saying something stupid.

"How unfortunate," Carrow said dryly. "I kept my part of the deal"—he motioned to the duffel bag—"and you've completely wasted my time. This won't be good for your reputation, I can tell you that."

Deirdre almost chuckled. What a day.

Krupin's attempts at explaining further were silenced by another sharp look from Carrow. Deirdre was impressed he seemed to recognize how dangerous this man was. Or maybe he just knew how much trouble he was going to be in if this deal went south.

"Here's what we're going to do," Carrow said. "You idiots are going to hand over your shipment like we agreed. In return, we'll let you walk away with your lives."

"If we go back without the money we're good as dead," Krupin argued, and Deirdre could see him preparing to attack.

Oh, this was gonna _suck_.

Still, a fight was a fight-she couldn't help but get a little excited, even as the bullets started flying.

* * *

It took Zoro much longer to find his way back to town—the fight must've disoriented him more than his usual lack of direction. Perona gave him an earful when he finally got back to the hotel ("Why are you covered in mud? Is that a rip in your clothes? Mihawk gave you that shirt, what would he think if he saw that? I swear, you're such a _handful_ "), and he spent as little time as he had to inside. A quick shower and he was back to wandering the town—this time to find a nice sunny spot to nap in, or maybe a bar.

The sunny spot came into view first—a bench in the middle of a tiny park, with just the perfect amount of light. It called to him, and he answered, settling in with a contented sigh. Nothing like a nap in the middle of the day.

Unfortunately, the nap lasted all of a few minutes before he was disturbed.

"Hey, you!" a familiar voice cried close to his face, waking Zoro with a start. He opened his eye to see a girl about his age, plum-colored hair pulled into a high ponytail. She was bent over him genially, hands in the pockets of her cutoff overalls. There were a few bandages on her arms and legs, and one on her face, but it didn't seem to affect her. He stared blankly for a moment, not sure if he should recognize her or not.

She straightened, waving her hand in a placating gesture. "Sorry to wake you, but I just wanted to say thanks before I left. You really helped me out back there."

It clicked. "You're that dog, right?" Made sense. She was at least two feet taller than this island's strangely short native people, and the placement of the bandages seemed to match with the blows he'd landed during their 'fight.' Actually, there seemed to be more. Had she been in another fight since then?

"Well, yeah," she said, and glanced around at the empty street. "Though I prefer to keep it secret."

She stuck out her hand. "I'm Deirdre Doran."

Zoro shook it briefly, noticing the wide cloth wristband on her left arm. "Roronoa Zoro," he said slowly, watching for her reaction.

She looked at him blankly. "Huh. That name seems oddly familiar. Haven't met you anywhere before, have I?"

Zoro was speechless. He'd been certain she'd stiffen in shock, or beg forgiveness for daring to attack the Pirate Hunter, or _something_. Just what kind of backwater town did this girl come from?

"Well, I'm glad I met you again today. Is there anything I can do to pay you back?"

A refusal formed on his tongue, but she was still talking.

"—Maybe I could buy you a drink or something?"

" _Yes_ ," he said emphatically, and stood.

* * *

The pub was dim and musty, all dark wood and loud drunks. Deirdre and Zoro made their way easily to the bar, settling on a pair of stools by the wall. She took care to sit on his right side, in his line of vision. Her consideration both amused and annoyed him, but he could put up with it for now. After all, she was paying.

"Whiskey," he said to the bartender, a fat middle-aged man with a bored look on his face.

"Apple juice, please," Deirdre said, laying a few coins on the counter.

Zoro raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged. "Beer tastes funny," she said simply.

The bartender set their glasses before them absentmindedly, and Deirdre frowned—both the flagons looked the same, contents and all.

"Whatever," she muttered, picking one and taking a sip. She made a face and pushed the flagon to Zoro. "Yours. Yuck."

He smirked and took it. She sucked down some of her juice, trying to get the taste of whiskey out of her mouth.

"So," he said after a moment, finally letting his curiosity get the best of him. "You going to tell me why you just attacked me earlier?"

She sighed. "Yeah, I suppose I should. I owe you a lot for earlier." She leaned her head back and chugged her juice, setting the cup down with a contented sigh.

That contentment quickly left her, though, and there was an odd look in her eyes. "I'm from an island a long way from here, in the New World. It's pretty isolated, but it used to be a fairly big mining industry there back before I was born. About five years ago a man named Popov came to our island." Her voice hardened, and she gripped her cup.

"He bought a lot of land, and revitalized the mine. Before long he was the richest man on the island, and half the people there are his employees, including me for the last three years.

"He hired me to cart stuff around and accompany shipments, because of my, uh-you know. Strengths. And it was all going great, until—" she furrowed her brow. "Until I realized just what I was transporting."

He waited, taking a slow sip.

"One day, about two years ago, while I was carting a fairly small shipment by myself, I—I heard crying. From inside the box."

She looked at him, torn. "He had me moving slaves. _Slaves_ ," she said quietly. "That's when it all hit me, you know. What was going on.

"I went to confront him—tried to quit, tried to call the Marines on him. But that bastard threatened to kill my little sisters if I didn't keep working for him."

Tension rolled off her in waves as she continued.

"So I kept going, but I've been trying to sabotage him as much as possible. I've smuggled some people into a bunker my dad built decades ago, and I've found a few ways to destroy the drugs without putting suspicion on myself. I wish I was strong enough to just kill him myself, head on. But Popov's a coward and a murderer, and if he even _thinks_ I'm disobeying him, he'll kill my family.

"They're just kids. They're too young to die," she whispered, staring hard into her empty flagon.

Zoro finished his drink in silence, studying her face. Her thick brows were still knit together; dark eyes shining with unshed tears. Oh, no. She better not start crying. He never knew how to handle crying.

Much to his relief, she didn't—merely rubbed her eye with the heel of her palm and sat up straight again.

"So when I saw you in the woods, I just… I could _feel_ how strong you were, and so I took a chance that if I fought you…"

"That I'd destroy the drugs for you," he finished. "Clever." She must have some kind of observation haki. It wasn't too long ago he'd developed his own talent at armament haki—Mihawk had tried to drill observation haki into him as well, but gave up after a while (saying, "I should have known you'd be unable to _listen_ "). Well, Mihawk could go suck it. Here he was right now, listening to the problems of some stranger. A stranger who had bought him drinks, yes, but a stranger nonetheless.

"Heh. Thanks," she said, half smiling. "This is actually the third time I used that trick. Dunno how much more I can do it without someone catching on. Or dying."

She motioned at the bartender for a refill. "So thanks for playing along."

"Tch," he scoffed. "Yeah, _playing_."

She glanced at him. "What, so you weren't holding back? I coulda sworn you'd be stronger than that…" she mused.

A fight broke out behind them, but neither of them flinched. Deirdre looked over briefly, but turned back to him.

" _Yes_ , I was holding back," Zoro replied, irritated both that she'd doubted his strength and that she'd looked away. "I could've killed you in an instant if I wanted to." Probably even less, if he'd been paying more attention.

"Okay, okay, I believe you." She held up her hands in a placating gesture. "So… why didn't you?"

He blinked, then stared into his cup for a moment. Why hadn't he?

"Curiosity, I guess." He downed the rest of his drink.

"Hm," she said absently, and gave no protest when Zoro motioned for a refill from the bartender.

He was halfway through finishing his second when Deirdre finally spoke again.

"So what about you, Zoro-kun?"

Her use of honorifics surprised him—her tomboyish appearance (or anything she'd done previously, really) hadn't given the impression that she cared about being polite.

"What about me?"

"Well, where do you come from? Why are you in the Grand Line?" Her previous anxious mood was gone, replaced with curiosity and questions. "What's your family like?"

That last question hit him harder than he expected as images of his crewmates flashed in his mind. Two years' worth of repressed homesickness suddenly washed over him, and he wished silently that they were back on the Sunny, so he could just turn and point to his crewmates and let Deirdre find out for herself. He didn't trust himself to speak for a minute, let alone find the words to describe them.

"I'm making my way back to my crew," he said slowly, after a long moment. "We were separated a couple years ago, but my captain told us to get back to our meeting place soon."

"Crew? D'you work on a ship?"

He smirked. "You could say that."

Deirdre leaned in conspiratorially. "Are you a pirate?"

She took his silent grin as a yes. Suddenly she grew excited, leaning even closer, an eager look on her face. "Which crew? Do you know the Nightcap Pirates?"

He blinked in surprise. Most people didn't react so happily to pirates.

"Uh, no," he said. "Should I?"

Deirdre frowned in disappointment and sat back again. "Probably not. They're not in the big leagues anymore. Used to be, though. Back about… let's see… twenty-five years ago?"

"When Roger was still around, right?"

"Yeah. My mom was the first mate, but she gave it up and eloped with my old man. She used to tell me stories about her pirate days." A softer, almost dreamy look entered her eyes, and Zoro could see that she was remembering kinder times. She smiled softly, and then shook her head as if to dispel the mood.

"So," she said briskly. "You never said which crew you're on."

"Probably isn't wise," he replied.

She frowned. "Probably not. Still wanna know, though."

He glanced sidelong at her, finishing his drink once again.

"Just pay attention to the news. You'll see me soon enough."

Deirdre gave him a searching, dissatisfied look, but seemed to accept his words. "Well, if your crew ever comes to my island, you'll be welcome at my house."

"I'll make sure to tell my captain that."

* * *

Their boat arrived early the next morning, just before sunrise. Perona crossed the gangplank first, walking sleepily with her pack slung over one shoulder. Zoro followed, gaze set on the horizon.

He would be home soon.


	2. The Dog That Bought Me Drinks

**A/N: I'm just going to go ahead and post the part I have written (maybe another chapter's worth?) so I can get this all out of my system. As always, please let me know if you like it!**

"Ugh, that storm was awful," Usopp groaned, leaning on his mop.

It had, like all storms in the New World, swept in suddenly and horrifyingly strong, threatening to overturn the Sunny more than once. Nami had barely had time to warn everyone about it before the first hundred-foot wave lifted them high and dropped them hard. Everything that wasn't bolted to the floor had flown around, and quite a few things had broken or scattered.

"We're lucky it didn't shove us even farther off course," Nami muttered, carefully examining her log pose. It would take a few more days to get to their next destination, and they needed to stop for food again soon. The pantry was getting painfully empty.

"How long did that last? It felt like days." Usopp took to swabbing the deck once again. After Chopper had slipped on the wet deck a few years ago, Robin had rather forcefully suggested they take turns drying it after storms. It was Usopp's turn this time, and everyone else was busy picking up the ship's various rooms (even Luffy, much to everyone's surprise).

"Only about six hours, give or take," Robin said, lending a few hands on deck and picking up a second mop. Her power was more than helpful when it came to cleaning, and she'd finished tidying her assigned room well before anyone else.

"Our room is back to normal," she told Nami, taking a seat next to her. "But our couch lost a foot. I'll get Franky to fix it after he checks Sunny over."

Nami nodded. "Thanks."

Sanji chose this moment to emerge above deck, carrying a platter laden with two coffee mugs.

"For you, ladies."

"These are cute, Sanji-kun," Nami said, admiring the winking cat drawn in her coffee creamer. She glanced at Robin's, which had a flower with heart-shaped petals. Sanji grinned and twirled the platter.

"Don't I get any coffee?" Usopp asked.

"Make it yourself," Sanji shot back. "You're a big boy, you can work a coffee maker on your own."

The two had almost finished their coffee when a downtrodden Chopper opened the door to the infirmary. "Ten of my beakers broke," he informed them morosely. "Thankfully most of them were empty, but it was a pain to clean up all the glass. I'll have to bolt their case down before the next storm."

Suddenly, something whizzed past the side of the ship, almost too fast to see—and then rocketed into the water with a splash. Nami, Chopper, and Usopp rushed to the side of the ship and peered into the water in alarm, with Sanji looking on from behind.

"Was that a person?" Usopp asked, rightfully concerned.

"Whatever it was, it's sinking fast," said Chopper. "If it's alive, I'll—" He made as if to jump off the side, but Sanji held him fast.

"Oh no you don't," he said, putting out his cigarette. "You're just dead weight in the water, remember?"

Chopper frowned. "Oh yeah. Sorry, Sanji."

"Don't worry, I'll get 'em." Sanji handed him his cigarette and leapt from the ship, knifing into the water with hardly a splash. He resurfaced before the rest of them even had a chance to gather at the railing, dragging a severely injured person with him. Usopp let down the ship's ladder, and Sanji carried his catch onto the deck. Robin lent a few hands to gently lower the injured person so Chopper could get a proper look.

"They're not breathing," Sanji informed him, wiping the water off his face. "Think they're alive though."

Chopper was well ahead of him, settling next to the unconscious stranger and opening his first aid kit. Diligently, he began performing CPR while the rest of the crew gathered to get a good look at the stranger.

"Looks like they've been in a fight," Robin said, noting the blood that was mixed with the seawater and staining the deck.

"Is it a girl?" Usopp whispered to Sanji, who perked up and took a closer look at the stranger on the deck. Nami whacked them both.

"This isn't the time to be ogling someone!" she hissed.

"I think you're right," Sanji muttered back to Usopp, wincing as Nami popped him another one.

Luckily, it was only a few seconds before the girl spluttered and coughed, retching and spitting up seawater. Chopper helped her sit up, looking relieved.

"No!" She groaned, face contorting in fear even while almost about to vomit. "No! I have to—I have to get back—!" She coughed, clutching her bloody stomach. "If I don't get back that bastard'll kill them!" Another wet cough, and she groaned. "It's all my fault…no…"

Her voice cracked as she was wracked with pain and collapsed onto the deck once more.

* * *

Deirdre opened her eyes slowly, wincing at the sudden pain registering all over—predominantly in her stomach. Adding on to that, her throat burned and a headache pounded behind her temples. Sweet sapphires, did it hurt.

"What the hell…?" she groaned coarsely, trying to sit up. Something hard stopped her, and she looked up through slitted eyes to see an odd looking (but very cute) creature resting its hoof firmly on her chest, determined eyes looking into her own.

"Don't sit up just yet. Your stomach was cut pretty bad, and you swallowed a lot of seawater."

It… talked? She supposed it was ridiculous to be surprised by talking animals, given that she was one as well. And at this point, she didn't really care—the throbbing pain in the gut made sure she focused on the bigger picture here.

"What happened? What—where am I?" Panic rose to join her confusion as she remembered the fight she'd had with Zima and her impromptu flight into the ocean.

"I can't—I need to leave," she said, grunting with pain as she struggled to sit up, fighting the creature's hold. She looked down, noticing her bandaged middle, where blood was already seeping through the cloth. With a start, she realized her old clothes were gone, replaced with an unfamiliar shirt and pants.

"You need to leave? Why?" came another voice, and she looked around to focus on the speaker. He was a small, wiry boy of about her age, with a curved scar under his left eye. He looked at her curiously, as if he was trying to come to some sort of judgment.

For a moment she was startled—someone this powerful was in the room, and she didn't even notice? The pain must've dulled her senses. This kid's aura was just…chock-full of confidence, to the point of overflowing. Just where had she landed herself? How much should she tell him?

Well, if she was dead anyway, she might as well be honest.

"I need to keep that bastard Popov from killing my family," she said simply, trying again to sit up. This time the animal let her.

"Popov?"

"Benedikt Popov, the devil spawn that rules my island," she explained, cracking her neck. "I don't have much time. If Popov hears I escaped, he won't be merciful. I'm out of chances to kill him quietly." She held back a gasp of pain as her body registered the extent of her injuries. It was going to be a hell of a time trying to kill anyone with a six-inch gash in her gut, let alone Popov.

"Who are you guys?" she asked, looking between the two. "Why did you save me? Where am I?"

"I'm Luffy, the future Pirate King," the boy answered immediately, and with startling confidence.

Deirdre blinked at him. The name was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't seem to place it. She looked to the little creature at her side for clarity.

"I'm Chopper," he said, pulling out a stethoscope and starting to check her heartbeat. "This is Luffy, our captain. You fell into the water right next to our ship, and I stitched you up."

"Thank you, Chopper-chan, Luffy-kun," she said. "I'm Deirdre Doran."

"It's no problem, Deirdre," Luffy replied. "Chopper, can she walk?"

This guy was a captain? He didn't talk like one. Deirdre decided not to be offended about the way he'd forgotten to use honorifics on her name—it was hard to be offended by someone so wide-eyed and friendly.

"Yeah, I can walk. This is nothing," she bluffed, somehow managing to stand (albeit wobbly).

Chopper led her to the bathroom, where she finally got to take a good look at herself. Her face was all scratched up (no surprise there), with a rather large bandage covering where Zima had clawed her cheek, and a nice bruise already forming on her temple. She fixed her short hair back into its usual ponytail, and was glad there wasn't any blood in it this time, even if it did smell like seawater. Not that it would have really been noticed, since her hair was close enough to the color of blood already.

She frowned at the bloodstain already forming on her borrowed shirt. These people were really helping her much more than she deserved—how could she pay them back?

After a few more moments gripping the sink and checking that she was halfway presentable, she left the bathroom. Chopper was waiting outside, and he smiled brightly when she appeared.

"You seem to be recovering pretty well! Why don't you get some fresh air?"

Soon Deirdre was up and hobbling onto the deck of the ship, where some of the crew was waiting. She could tell they wanted to bombard her with questions, but were holding back to be polite. Thank goodness—she didn't feel quite up to the task of answering anything right now. Chopper helped her settle onto a bench around the mast.

The extent of her situation hit her afresh, and she groaned suddenly, looking down at her stomach and then at Chopper. "I have to leave, _now_ ," she said urgently. "My sisters are in danger. I have to go help them—" she tried to stand and wobbled, gasping as new bloodstains spread on her borrowed shirt. Chopper forced her back on the chair, and she pressed a hand to her stomach.

"Sorry," she said to no one in particular. "I got blood on this nice shirt…"

"Deirdre-san, I can't let you leave," Chopper said, transforming from his rather adorable self to a large and hulking figure and holding her firmly by the shoulders. "You've lost too much blood to do any fighting, your stitches will rip, _and_ you've almost drowned. I'd be a horrible doctor if I let you go."

"But I have to go!" she cried out, tears of frustration threatening to spill. "Those bastards will _kill_ my little sisters! They might be doing it now—I can't stay here!" She struggled to get out of his grip, but couldn't. In desperation, she shifted—instantly, she was a large red and white dog, and she used Chopper's surprise to wiggle free. She fell awkwardly from the beach chair, running to the side of the ship and looking over, dripping blood as she went—and wished for the second time that day that she had been born smart.

She was facing the open ocean. She couldn't jump and swim to shore.

She turned, hackles raised, to see Luffy crouching in front of her, looking at her seriously.

"Deirdre, you want to save your sisters, right?" he asked, staring into her eyes.

"I'd die for them," she answered, choking back tears. "Please, help me save my family."

He stared a moment longer, eyebrows furrowed, then put a hand on his hat and stood.

"We'll take you to them," he said, turning to his crew. "Right, guys?"

They all nodded, and Deirdre collapsed in relief, tears flowing freely.

" _Thank_ _you_ …!"

* * *

Later, while Chopper checked her stitches in the infirmary, Deirdre put a hand on his hoof, getting his attention.

"Thank you," she said for what must have been the twentieth time, her eyes still closed.

"Of course, Deirdre-san," he said, finishing up her bandages. She opened her eyes to see him give her a firm look.

"Don't change forms for a while, okay? It'll mess up your stitches again. Wait at least a few days."

She snorted softly. "I can't promise anything. If I have to split a few stitches to keep my sisters safe, I won't hesitate."

"I figured," Chopper grumbled uneasily, giving Deirdre the okay to stand up again.

Chopper was not happy about letting his patient potentially go and fight, but he decided it was better that they were all going along instead of letting her run off on her own. Besides, he was used to his patients (mainly Luffy) running off without healing properly. At least this one was willing to _try_ not to rip her stitches within fifteen minutes.

"C'mon, let's go get you to the kitchen. When did you last eat?"

She paused, thinking. "Uhh, not since this morning."

"Well, if you're so determined to fight, you might as well do it with some food in you." He took her hand in his tiny hoof and led her out to the kitchen, and she did her best not to giggle at how cute he was. The air was filled with a delicious smell, one of cooked meat and hearty vegetables. Her stomach growled as Chopper helped her sit. Nami and Usopp soon joined her, quickly followed by the rest of the crew. Thankfully, there were just enough seats for everyone.

Once everyone was in the kitchen, she bowed her head in gratitude. "My name is Deirdre Doran. Thank you for saving me," she said politely.

She waited as patiently as she could while the rest of them introduced themselves, aching to run home and protect her family. Still, she made an effort and respectfully locked eyes with each person as they introduced themselves, even the strange skeleton man and the huge robot (who both looked pretty cool, even if a little weird).

And then she saw him. She should have recognized him right away (in fact, she would have if she hadn't been a little distracted by her gaping stomach wound). She should have sensed his aura, too—even if there were half a dozen other ridiculously strong auras on this ship, his was still there, distinct and strong. It had changed a little—it had grown, even after only a few months, and for a split second she worried it might be the wrong person—but then their eyes met, and she couldn't help but drop her spoon with a clatter.

"Zoro-kun!" Deirdre exclaimed, bolting upright—then bit back a groan. Ooh, she should not do that again.

Everyone was quiet, glancing between her and Zoro. She couldn't read the look on his face, but oh, was she glad to see him.

"…Have we met?" he asked finally, and this time she did groan.

"Well, I didn't think you would forget this fast…" she said with chagrin, sitting down again. "After you gave me a scar, too." She gestured to one of the many tiny marks peppering her forearms.

Sanji paused in his serving food to glower murderously at Zoro. "Just what did you do to Deirdre-chan, you ass?" he seethed.

Zoro opened his mouth to give a biting reply, but Deirdre quickly put up her hands in a placating gesture. "Actually—I was the one who attacked him first—"

Recognition flashed in Zoro's face. "You're that dog that bought me drinks."

She blushed a little. "Well, when you put it like _that_ …" she muttered, looking at the bowl of soup Sanji had placed before her.

Nami and Robin exchanged intrigued glances, silently agreeing to get all the details out of her later.

By now everyone had food—huge steaming bowls of soup perfect for the island's autumn climate—and there were a few moments of silence as everyone dug in. Deirdre could almost cry, the food was so good. Her own cooking was middling at best, and she hadn't had a proper home-cooked meal in _ages_.

She was beginning to think maybe she would have a hard time paying these people back for all their help.

"So you're a Devil Fruit user, huh?" Usopp commented. "No wonder you sunk like a stone before."

Deirdre nodded, mouth full. "Yeah, I'm a Zoan. I ate the Inu-Inu fruit a few years ago, so now I'm a malamute. I would show you again, but Doctor-chan says I shouldn't shift unless absolutely necessary."

"I said you shouldn't shift at all!" Chopper protested from his seat beside her, trying to fight his blushing grin at the nickname. "And just cause you called me doctor doesn't mean you can ignore my instructions, bastard!"

"Wait," Luffy said through a huge mouthful of meat, "if you ate the Inu-Inu fruit, then shouldn't you be a dog?"

"Malamute is a type of dog breed," Robin informed him.

"We all saw her transform earlier, Luffy," Usopp reminded him. "She definitely turned into a dog. Do malamutes usually get that big?" he asked, turning back to Deirdre, who shrugged.

"Dunno. Only malamute I've seen is me. And I only know it's a malamute model because my little sister had a picture book on dog breeds."

"Deirdre-san," Brooke said, turning his vacant skull in her direction. Deirdre was still weirded out by his appearance, but so far he hadn't done anything to warrant fear. "You wouldn't happen to have developed any… doglike interests?"

Deirdre looked at him blankly, spoon halfway to her mouth. "Huh?"

"You don't feel the urge to, oh, I don't know, gnaw on bones…do you?"

Deirdre couldn't help but smile a little. "No, not really. When I'm in full dog mode I might enjoy it, but not as a human."

Brooke didn't look any less concerned with her reply.

"I'm more interested in your sisters," Sanji said from behind the counter. A strange look crossed his face. "How old are they? What are they like?"

Robin and Nami gave him a look, and Deirdre narrowed her eyes. She'd had more than enough practice beating up her sister's potential suitors to catch his meaning. There was an ongoing tally at her house for how many teenage boys she had one-hit K.O.-ed after they rudely hit on Gerti. So far it was at thirty-four (some of them repeat offenders), and was only going to get higher as they got older.

"I suggest you stop that line of thought right there," she said threateningly. "My sisters are all several years younger than me, and I'll have you know I'm _very_ protective." She didn't care how handsome this man was or how well he cooked, no one could dare treat her little sisters that way and live. Sanji put his hands up in an "okay, I'll back off" gesture.

"You'd really do anything for your sisters, wouldn't you?" Nami asked, trying to change the subject.

Deirdre's expression softened, and she set her spoon down. "Yeah," she said quietly. "It's what they deserve, after what I've dragged them into. I'd die before I'd let them get hurt.

"Sorry," she said, blushing a little. "I didn't mean to talk like that."

Robin shook her head. "No, Deirdre-san. We understand."

"Yeah!" Franky agreed emphatically, tears streaming. "A big sister's love is super!"

"I'd like to know more about this Popov guy," Zoro said, once again joining the conversation.

Deirdre shot him a look. "Okay, one: I already told _you_ basically all about this the first time we met. And two: where do I even start? He's a horrible, manipulative, cowardly bastard who came to the island a few years ago and conned everyone out of land and money. Now he basically rules the place because he's the only one with any money—everyone works for him, either directly or indirectly. He lives like a king, and its getting harder and harder to pay taxes because the bastard raises them so much."

She didn't catch the way Nami's face hardened, or the way Sanji and Luffy glanced at their crewmate.

"And as if that weren't enough," she continued, "I found out about a year ago that he's in the slave _and_ drug markets. Popov uses his free reign on this island to traffic goods around, including the slaves. People get snatched all the time now—especially young girls." The weight of her words settled around the table, and Deirdre gripped her spoon tightly in an effort to control her emotions. "There're rumors among his employees that he uses drugs to make them compliant, and that he keeps a number of them for himself.

"I tried to contact the Marines, someone, _anyone,_ about it, but all methods of communication are monitored by his subordinates. And I doubt the Marines would have done anything anyway, given their stance on the slave trade in Sabaody Park."

She didn't see the looks that passed between her audience, and continued.

"So I tried to take him down myself. Popov himself isn't particularly strong—but his Devil Fruit power makes it near impossible to win as a Zoan. Otherwise, he'd be dead by now." She jabbed the end of the spoon into the table, growling softly.

"After my first attempt, Popov used my family against me. He won't kill me cause I'm useful. So he's been holding them hostage, and making me ferry his drugs and slaves all over the Grand Line. But a few days ago, he found out I was freeing slaves and sabotaging his drug deals—so he imprisoned me in one of the mines, and said if I didn't tell him where they were, he'd kill my sisters. This morning I escaped.

"The scumbag is vile, disgusting, and cruel, and I will kill him with my own hands if it means this whole thing will end." She finished her impromptu speech with conviction, face contorted in anger and pain as she realized her nails had pierced her palm from holding the spoon too tightly.

"I don't like this Popov guy," Luffy said, his face serious. "I wanna kick his ass already."

Deirdre frowned. She wanted more than anything to take him down herself—both to protect her family and to have the satisfaction of seeing his face just before she ripped it off. But she didn't exactly have the best track record—maybe having Luffy take him out was the best idea? He certainly seemed more than strong enough—his aura was almost definitely the strongest on the ship, which really was saying something.

"No way," Nami cut in. "We're only here for a pit stop, you know. And we can't just go after every small fry we come across. There's not even a reward!"

Of course. She couldn't expect some random group of pirates to come and save them. This was her mess (well, part of it). She'd end it.

"It makes sense he'd have a Devil Fruit power," Robin said. "Do you know what it is?"

"Well, I don't know all the details like the fruit name and stuff, but I _think_ he can control animals. When I tried to kill him he didn't even have to raise a finger, he—he just said something, a command—and I couldn't move. It was terrifying… but it explains why he has so many Zoan subordinates."

"Zoan…" Robin murmured, deep in thought. "Hmm."

Sanji began picking up bowls at this point, and both he and Chopper protested when Deirdre stood up to help.

"Deirdre-san," Nami said, handing Sanji her bowl, "Do you think you could make a quick map of the island? It would help me decide the fastest route to get to your family."

"Uh, I can try," Deirdre said. "It might not be a hundred percent accurate, but I'll give it a shot, yeah."

After Deirdre's best attempt at a map (which wasn't bad for someone who hadn't so much as glanced at one in two years), Nami decided the most efficient route to her home. The Sunny would skirt the island to avoid Popov's men, more for Deirdre's safety than anything else, and go inland as far as possible through the eastern delta. There was a hidden cove a little ways upriver that was deep enough for the Sunny, and from there they would—

"—What'd you say we should do from there? A boat?" Deirdre asked.

"Franky's got that covered," Nami assured her. "About how far is it from the cove to your house?"

"A good few miles. Maybe four or five?"

"Are there lots of outposts?"

Deirdre gestured one direction on the map. "There are less the deeper you go into the forest—" Another gesture. "—And the higher you go up the mountain. Each of the outpost groups aren't particularly strong on their own, maybe fifteen to twenty armed men, but I don't want to alert Popov or Zima to where I am right now, or that you guys are here at all. And if we get spotted, it's basically game over for my sisters—that is, if Zima hasn't been sent after them already."

"Zima?"

"The one who knocked me flying into the ocean. He's Popov's second in command." She rested her head on her chin, trying to think back. "I think I managed to tear off his leg, though, so if we're lucky he can't walk."

The deck fell silent as everyone processed that statement.

Nami's mouth opened slowly, as if she didn't quite believe what she'd just heard. "You…you _tore_ his _leg_ off?"

Deirdre nearly growled, remembering. "The things he threatened to do—I should have taken his head off instead. Besides," she continued, raising a hand in defense against everyone's stares. "I'm not entirely sure it came off all the way—he was like, full polar bear at that point so it was pretty thick and like, sinewy? And he did send me flying right after, too, so I'm honestly not certain it even fazed the guy."

Nami looked like she was going to barf, and Deirdre regretted mentioning it at all.

"Did you say polar bear?" Luffy asked, mouth wide in excitement.

Thankfully, that managed to swing the conversation from Deirdre's attempt at dismemberment to the size ranges of animals and whether or not various crewmembers (or Deirdre) could take them on, which managed to last until they reached the cove.

It was tiny, just large enough to fit the Sunny through the entrance and just deep enough to avoid running aground.

Deirdre couldn't help but scamper (well, try to) across the ship to watch as Franky lowered the anchor—she was enthralled with the way the lion's paws were the anchors, and how they lowered with the pull of a crank.

"That's kinda cute," she called to Franky, grinning in delight. "You're really ingenious, you know that?"

Franky couldn't help but agree. "Just wait til you see what's next, Deirdre-san!" He spun the helm a little to the right, then cranked the lever at his knee. A rumble shook the deck, and Deirdre peered over the edge to watch as the large number two on the side of the ship slid open and a little boat popped out.

"Nice!" she said loudly, admiring the little ram's head at the front. "But will we all fit?"

"Not all of us are going," Nami replied. "We'll send a couple people to go with you to get your family, and the rest of us will stay here with the ship."

"Okay, that makes sense," Deirdre said, scratching her bandages over her shirt absentmindedly. "Who's going then?"

"Should we draw straws again?" Robin asked. "Unless someone wants to volunteer."

"I'm going for sure," Chopper announced, emerging from the infirmary with a large pack. "Unless Deirdre-san promises not to rip her stitches," he said, shooting a look at Deirdre, who shrugged.

"Well I guess you're coming, then, Doctor-chan."

Chopper frowned a little. When would he get a patient that listened?

"I'm going!" Luffy shouted, one leg already over the side of the ship.

Nami smacked him squarely on the head. "No! Deirdre-san needs to check on her family, not destroy the island. This is a stealth mission."

"But Naaaamiiiiii, there's nothing else to _dooo_!"

"Stealth. Mission!" Nami said through gritted teeth, punctuating each word with another yank on his ear.

"Buzzkill," Luffy muttered, but relented.

"Y'know, nobody _has_ to come with me," Deirdre said. "I don't need to be babysat or anything. And you guys have done more than enough anyway."

Luffy frowned, looking insulted. "Hey, we promised we'd get you to your family, right? So we're going with you. Well, some of us."

Deirdre sighed impatiently. "Okay, fine. So Doctor-chan is definitely coming along. Anyone else want to go?"

"I'll go," Sanji and Zoro said in unison. They glared at each other.

"What? No way. I'm the one going."

"And why do you want to go, huh?"

"Because it's so damn boring just waiting here!"

"Well there's no way I'm letting an indelicate thug like you come along when there's girls to protect!"

"Hey guys." Brooke waved a hand between the two, getting their attention. "Deirdre-san already left."

She was already aboard the Mini Merry II, Chopper chasing behind. "Deirdre-san, you shouldn't make jumps like that with your injuries!"

Deirdre ignored him and called back up to the Sunny. "Hey! Stop wasting time—if you're coming, get down here!"

After a brief, exasperated exchange of glances, the two leapt into the boat.


	3. He'll Have to Go Through Us First

**A/N: This one is a little shorter, but I felt it ended at the right spot. R &R appreciated :0**

* * *

The ride was more tense than long, and Deirdre grew more and more fidgety the closer they got.

Were they okay? Had Zima gotten to them? Horrible images flashed through her mind, images of their broken, bleeding bodies, or of handcuffs on her sisters' wrists as they were dragged away. Zima's threats rang in her ears.

In an attempt to calm down, she gripped her knees so tight she drew blood.

"Are you feeling okay, Deirdre-san? You look a little pale," Chopper said, concerned.

"Y-yeah," Deirdre said, and looked apologetically at him. "Just… worried."

Zoro and Sanji had stopped their bickering a few miles back and now sat on opposite ends of the boat, watching the forest sail by. If she hadn't been so anxious, Deirdre would have felt awkward about their silence. As it was, she appreciated that they'd stop arguing like children.

Sanji glanced over, wanting to relieve a little tension but not quite knowing how.

"Deirdre-chan, how many sisters do you have?"

Deirdre looked up, suspicion now mixing into her face. "Why?"

"Just asking. I was tired of the silence."

She sighed. Might as well—there was at least a few minutes to kill, and it was probably better for her to talk out her anxiety.

"Well, there's… hold on a sec…" she began counting on her fingers, not noticing how Sanji's eyes bugged as she quickly ran out.

"Ah, right. There's twelve of us now."

Zoro opened and closed his mouth quickly as Sanji's cigarette dropped to the floor of the boat. Chopper tried to remember what the normal number of siblings was for humans (was it one? Two?). Sanji shot Zoro a look that asked: _did you know about this?_

" _Twelve_?"

"Well, only three of them are my biological sisters. The rest are…adoptive."

"Your parents adopted eight kids?!"

"No," Deirdre said crossly. "I did!"

"…What?"

She checked her surroundings again and turned back to Sanji. "The short version is, they're all girls I hid so they wouldn't become slaves. There's an underground railroad on the island, and whenever I can I sneak slaves there, but—these kids don't have anywhere to go back to, so I… I take care of them."

"You? What about your parents?"

"…My parents died. Five years ago."

Sanji and Zoro looked uncomfortable. Chopper laid a comforting hoof on Deirdre's arm. "I'm sorry."

She nodded. "It's okay now. I make just enough money with this job to support all of us. But now Popov knows about them, and all eleven of them are in danger."

"Were do they live, then? The other eight?"

"They live at my parents' old bunker—they were really into living below the radar and had it prepared in case something happened. It's got food storage and beds and everything, and I take supplies there every week. It's not the best, and I've been trying to find safe homes for them, but in the meantime they live there."

As a child she had watched her father make the blueprints for the bunker, watched her parents work together to build it in their free time. She'd helped them organize the food storage and emergency supplies every year since she was six, and then without them for the last five years. It was a storm shelter, a hiding place. It was the only safe place she could think of for these girls.

"Deirdre-san, how far are we?" Chopper asked, as the mountain began to loom ever closer.

Deirdre swallowed. "We should get there in a few minutes. The house is just over that ridge."

They landed the boat, and Chopper scrambled out first to help his patient (much to her irritation). Deirdre's patience was running rather thin with this whole "injured" business—why couldn't she just force herself to heal already? It was really getting in the way.

The apple orchard was beautiful this time of year, all red and gold and yellow—but Deirdre was too anxious to take it in at the moment. She hiked as fast as her injuries would let her (which was still pretty fast, if painful) up the riverbank, swallowing back a cry of hope when she caught sight of it through the trees. The tiny farmhouse was well camouflaged, hidden in such a way that it was only visible once you came within a hundred feet of it.

She was home, but was she in time?

"I'll check the window," Deirdre whispered. "They might already be here."

The other three waited a moment at the edge of the forest (they had only just spotted it themselves) as she peeked inside the window.

"Oh no," Deirdre breathed, pushing off from the ledge and dashing into the house, pain temporarily forgotten. The others followed close behind—Zoro already had one hand on the hilt of his sword.

The front door was wide open, almost completely torn off its hinges. Dishes and silverware were scattered and shattered all over the front room, and it looked like a large animal had knocked over half the furniture. Claw marks littered the walls and floorboards.

Deirdre stood frozen and speechless in the entrance as Chopper, Sanji, and Zoro walked in past her.

"What the hell?" Sanji muttered, picking up a piece of a plate.

"Looks like we weren't fast enough…" Zoro said quietly, already on his way to check the back rooms.

"That's odd…" Chopper looked up from his inspection of the kitchen. "There's no blood anywhere."

Deirdre's head snapped up. "What?"

"He's right," Zoro called from the back. "None over here."

"None here either," Sanji affirmed.

"Okay, that's—that's good, right?" Please, let it be good.

"Not necessarily," Zoro replied grimly. "It just means that blood never got on anything in here. It doesn't mean they didn't bleed at all."

Deirdre grit her teeth and cursed. What was she doing just standing here?! There were eleven girls in her care, and she was doing a miserable job of it. What would Mom and Dad think?

Mom and Dad.

Numbly, she walked to the corner of what used to be the living room. Her parents' shrine was toppled over on its side, the photograph crumpled on the floor. She knelt and picked it up to see her mother and father smiling up at her, dressed in their wedding clothes. Carefully, she flattened it out—and noticed the writing on the bottom. Hastily scribbled in pen was the message:

 _D, TITPBTJLY NHMJ QRMPR. CTHN_

"What does 'titpubtishly' mean?"

She startled, looking up to see Zoro leaning curiously over her shoulder. Geez, didn't the man make any _sound_ when he moved?

Deirdre ignored the way Sanji's head snapped up when he heard the word "tit." "It's a code. I think."

"From who?"

"It's gotta be from Orma. She's always writing stuff like this with Lindy," she said, examining the back of the photograph for more. The only other writing on the photo was a small circular squiggle.

"You sure?"

"Yeah— See this little symbol at the bottom? It's Orma's stamp." Deirdre had lost count of the times she'd seen the small girl doodling the symbol over and over on her books. It gave a little comfort to see this reminder of calmer times.

"Can you decode it?"

"Uh…" Deirdre faltered. She hated to admit it, but she wasn't very good at this sort of stuff. The more academic joys of life had always eluded her, and this code was no exception.

"Maybe Robin could do it?" Chopper suggested.

"I hope so. If it wasn't important, Orma would have written it plainly."

She folded the picture quickly, offering a silent prayer to her parents' spirits before tucking the photo securely into her pants pocket. As she did so her eyes fell on the old axe on the floor—knocked from its honored place above the shrine by the intruders.

Her mother's axe. Romola's Reaver.

Her mother had shown her this axe when she was five, warning her of the sharpness of the blade and the weight of the shaft, how it was much too dangerous for a small child. She had watched Romola scare off wolves with that axe, chop wood with it in winter. The girls all thought it was blessed somehow—with that axe in hand, their mother had never lost a fight. They had hung it above the shrine after the funeral, taking it down only to polish and sharpen it.

She picked it up now, feeling the smooth whorls in the wood grain, the easy weight of it in her palm. Emotion rose in her throat as she stood, leaning on Reaver for support.

"What do you wanna do now, Deirdre-san?"

Deirdre bit her lip. "It's possible that they're all in the shelter. I need to go and check there anyway." Gerti knew where the shelter was, and if she was home when they left—But what if she wasn't? The possibilities began to overwhelm her, and she quickly shut it down. Going to the shelter was the best idea right now—she needed to let Griski and the others know what was going on too. If Gerti, Orma, and Appi were with them, then great. If not, she was sure that her adoptive sisters would help her find them.

"All right then." The others exited first, giving her time to take one final look around her home. Was this goodbye? As she turned away, she didn't have an answer.

And she didn't have time, either—suddenly, the clearing was filled with the sound of fifty rifles being cocked. She glanced back, noticing the uniform of Popov's hired mercenaries.

"Looks like our cover's blown," Zoro said nonchalantly as the soldiers ringed the clearing.

"Nice observation, Mister Obvious," Sanji mocked.

Deirdre grimaced. What was it with Popov's men and wasting her time? It was like they all had a bet going to see who could piss her off the most. These men weren't even worth her trouble, really—she could tell from their auras alone that they didn't stand up to comparison. But as confident as she was in her new allies' strength, they _really_ didn't have the time for this.

"See, I knew you idiots missed some trash."

She turned to see a skinny, greasy-looking man exiting the forest to stand in front of the shooters. He lit a cigarette and sneered like he wanted someone to count his teeth (which wouldn't take very long).

"Utkin," she growled. "I'd recognize your foul smell anywhere. Still working on that 'longest time without a shower' record?"

The trash talking was mostly to ease her anxiety, and it definitely made her feel better to see the smile drop momentarily from Utkin's face. And if that power-hungry weakling was here instead of Zima—maybe she really had ripped that leg off? She could only hope so.

Utkin resumed smiling, eager to insult Deirdre. "Hello, Doran! Looking for someone?"

Okay, the fun was over. If this scum knew anything, she was going to rip it out of him.

"Where are my sisters, you slimy piece of crap?"

"Like I'd tell _you_ ," he scoffed, delighted. "Oh, don't worry, they'll be dead soon. We're tracking them down as we speak."

So they hadn't been caught yet. It wasn't too late.

She lurched forward to transform and attack—and promptly toppled over, grunting in pain. Chopper caught her just in time, giving her just enough dignity not to fall flat on her face in front of the enemy.

Cursing, she leaned heavily on Chopper, somehow managing to stay upright.

"If you touch one hair on them, I _swear_ I'll—"

"You'll what? Lick us to death? Why don't you stop wasting everyone's time and just tell me where you hid the slaves you stole, and we'll let you and your sisters live."

She glared with as much disgust as she could muster (which was a considerable amount) to hide the sinking in her stomach.

"Go to hell."

Utkin grew more gleeful by the second—he knew perfectly well that Deirdre was powerless.

"Ladies first," he drawled, and signaled to someone behind her.

She whipped her head around to see a man standing in the threshold of her home—a lit match falling from his hand.

The scumbags must've been pouring gasoline while Utkin distracted her; the wood floor caught fire suddenly and violently. Within heartbeats, it spread to the debris on the floor, to the walls—and then the thatched roof caught fire, and she knew in her heart the whole thing was damned. The orchard went just as quickly, and the landscape was painted red and orange before her eyes.

This bastard was burning her childhood home to the ground, and she couldn't do anything but watch.

"I will rip your throat out and feed it to you, I _swear_ ," she shouted. Reaver was still in her hand, she could still take a swing; who cared if it hurt like hell.

"That's it—we're getting out of here," Sanji muttered to Deirdre. "Chopper, you can handle Deirdre-chan, right?"

He nodded, shifting form under her. "Hop on and hold on tight," he advised.

"What are you whispering about?" Utkin asked warily. He was getting a bad feeling about this. These strangers weren't properly intimidated, and that was never good.

She clambered atop Chopper's back and had just barely gripped his fur in her free hand when he jolted upward, easily clearing the heads of the soldiers and landing a good dozen yards away.

"Whoa!" she gasped in surprise. "That's awesome, Doctor-chan!"

"If only Luffy were here," Chopper said, more to himself than anything. "He could take them all out with the King's Haki."

Just as Deirdre made a mental note to ask about this "haki" thing later, Zoro unsheathed a single sword.

"Don't kill them, Zoro," Chopper called.

"Don't worry," he grunted. "They're not worth the effort."

And then he moved so fast Deirdre's eyes could barely keep up—she had to follow his aura to get a sense of his movements at all. In less than three lightning-fast swipes, all fifty men were on the ground—and not even one of them managed to get a shot off. Their screams of pain and alarm chorused around Zoro as he sheathed his sword and walked past the cowering Utkin.

"Tell your boss that if he wants Deirdre, he'll have to get through us first."

Utkin only stared, eyes wide. Deirdre could see his gibbering and shivering even at this distance. Served him right, the coward. She only wished she'd been the one to do it.

Sanji frowned, a little peeved that Zoro stole the spotlight. Still, he joined the rest as they headed back down the ridge to the boat.

It wasn't until they were floating back down the river that someone spoke.

"Deirdre-san, you're bleeding again!" Chopper said in mild alarm, back in his tiny form. "I need to check if you've ripped your stitches." He made as if to lift the hem of her shirt, but stopped when she pulled away stiffly.

"Can't it wait til we're back on the ship?" she whispered harshly, clearly panicked as she folded her arms tightly over her stomach. Zoro and Sanji glanced over, curious. Deirdre looked at Chopper with pleading eyes. Sweet sapphires, she hoped he wouldn't make her take off her shirt in front of two men she barely knew.

"It'd be worse for everyone if your stitches are ripped. Don't you want to heal?" Chopper argued, already opening his pack.

She bit her lip, weighing her sense of modesty against her desire to fight.

"Fine," she grumbled, and lifted the hem of her shirt just high enough to reveal the bandages around her abdomen. She really did _not_ want those two to see her bra.

Chopper set to work removing her bandages as Deirdre pointedly looked anywhere but Zoro and Sanji.

"You're lucky," Chopper said, satisfied with his work. "You haven't ripped them. We'll need to change your bandages once we get back to the Sunny, though."

"Good," she said, tugging her shirt back down. Something was bugging her, though, through the numbness.

 _He'll have to get through us first._

There it was. She'd dragged even more people into this mess. Wasn't eleven enough? Why wasn't she strong enough to kill Popov? Or even Zima?

She knew why. She'd allowed Zima's poisonous words to get to her. She'd panicked and hesitated, when she should have been ripping his head off his shoulders. He'd gotten to her, and now all of her sisters were in grave danger. And now, she had this blasted gash in her gut and couldn't even fight _Utkin_. Utkin, for Pete's sake! The man was practically _begging_ to be a punching bag! This was such a disgrace.

Even so, it was…touching, at least, to hear it from these near-strangers. It was something she'd say about her family.

It was enough to make up her mind.

* * *

Usopp was the first to spot their return, calling out from the crow's nest.

"They're back! What took you guys so long? Where are your sisters?"

They pulled up alongside the ship, and Chopper spent a few seconds arguing with Deirdre about how she would get up on deck. He decided to allow her to climb the rope ladder unaided, although he wished she would listen to him about straining herself.

"We were nearly caught at Deirdre-san's house," Chopper informed them as he leapt nimbly onto the Sunny, Reaver strapped to his back.

"We were not 'nearly caught'! I coulda slaughtered those guys," Sanji protested.

Zoro scoffed. "You're just butthurt that I was the one who took them all out."

Deirdre rolled her eyes as she finally pulled herself up over the side of the Sunny. "Either way, this 'stealth mission' was still a failure."

"What? Why not?"

"The house was wrecked and empty. They're alive, but I don't know where. Some of Popov's crew got in the way before I could try to follow their scent."

Well, there were several iffy details about that particular plan—for one, shifting was going to rip her a new one. She was also sure Gerti would backtrack to confuse the trail, anyway, so it probably wouldn't have worked. Still, it would have been worth trying before Utkin showed up.

She went to Chopper and retrieved Reaver, finally making up her mind.

"Luffy-kun, I—" she started, and bowed her head suddenly. The gesture was unusual for her, but it didn't matter. If there was a chance to save them all, she would bow a hundred times.

"Please help me destroy Popov and his crew," she said, raising her head to look at Luffy once again. When no one spoke she continued. "I can't do it with these injuries, and there's no one else I can ask for help. I'm running out of chances. I need to find and protect my sisters, and taking him down is the best way to do that."

Everyone was silent, watching as Luffy stared back with the same intensity he'd had earlier that day. Her hope and confidence almost faltered, and in determination she let out one last plea.

"I can't do this by myself. Please."

All eyes were on Luffy as he made his decision.

"Don't worry about it, Deirdre. We'll help." Just as before, he turned to his crew. "Right, guys?"

Deirdre's heart lifted as they chorused a round of affirmatives once again.

"We're not gonna tear off any limbs, though," Usopp quipped. "That's just gross."

"That's fair," she agreed, smiling for the first time in days.

* * *

Deirdre, Chopper, Zoro, and Sanji spent about ten minutes filling everyone else in on what had happened so far, and then spent another half hour discussing what to do. By the end of it Deirdre was ready to pull her hair out. Trying to make up a plan with Luffy and the entire crew was near impossible, and that mixed with her frustration at her lack of knowledge and current state was nigh unbearable. But she put up with it, and by the end they had some semblance of a plan. It might actually work, too, which was a plus.

Eventually, it was decided that all of them would head out from the Sunny at dusk to search the island for the missing sisters, and then split up from there. Half would stay and hold down the fort at the bunker, protecting the girls, while the other half would hunt down Popov and his men. Deirdre was all for this plan, especially the latter part.

After the discussion, Deirdre pulled the folded photograph from her pants pocket and handed it to Robin.

"What is it, Deirdre-san?"

"Robin-san, do you think you can crack this code? It's from one of my sisters."

"Hmm… it looks like it's a rather simple substitution cipher. It shouldn't be hard to figure out. I'll get to it right away."

"Thank you, Robin-san."

Once again, Chopper ushered her to the infirmary, this time for painkillers and a quick bandage change.

"Deirdre-san," he said quietly, looking at her with his kind doe eyes, "Are you doing okay?"

She huffed a confused laugh. "You're the doctor—should I be worried?"

"That's not what I meant," he frowned. "You had a lot of emotional trauma recently. I'm not a psychologist, so I'm probably not the best person for the job, but—if you need to talk to someone about it, I'm here."

Tears threatened to spill for the second time that day, and Deirdre mentally cursed her tear glands as she gave the little reindeer a soft smile.

"Thanks, Doctor-chan."

Later, Deirdre hid herself in the crow's nest for a much-needed moment of solitude. There was a few hours still left til dusk, and she needed the rest. She sat cross-legged in one of the bay windows, holding Reaver close.

This time, she let the tears flow.

Her home was gone. Her sisters were missing. She could barely walk, let alone fight. There was a murderous, slave trading drug lord after her family, and it was all her fault. If only she had never walked into Popov's office three years ago and asked for a job. If only she'd been there the day her parents went into the mines. If only she'd never eaten that stupid fruit.

For a good ten minutes she just sat there in the dark, crying silently into Reaver's handle. This was the only thing left of her home, of her mother—her father's camera had broken for good a year ago, despite Appi's best efforts.

"Mom, Dad," she whispered, "I'm so sorry. I'll get them all back safe, I promise."

After a while she fell asleep and dreamt of burning apples.

* * *

She woke suddenly, all her senses screaming of danger. She shot up, scrabbling for Reaver and pointing it at her attacker—

It was Zoro, standing beside her with his arms folded. She must've sensed his aura in her sleep—another survival instinct she'd developed in the past year.

"Oh, sweet sapphires, it's just you." Deirdre lowered the axe, blushing a little. "Sorry."

"The sun's about to set," he said.

"Thanks for waking me." She made as if to get up, wincing as she swung her legs off the window seat.

Zoro silently stuck out his hand, the look on his face daring her to say something.

She didn't, just took the offered hand and stood.


	4. Pay for Your Crime

**3\. The Heart On Her Sleeve And The Cuffs On Her Wrists**

* * *

There were only a few hours until dusk fell, and Zoro planned to get his day's worth of sleep. He headed to his usual spot, only to find that the crow's nest was already occupied. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, ready to kick out whoever was in his space—and then he heard it.

Crying. The kind he'd only heard a few times—the near-silent weeping of someone in deeply buried emotional distress. He peeked surreptitiously through one of the windows, confirming his gut instinct: it was Deirdre, sobbing into her axe in one of the bay windows.

Not something he wanted to walk in on, even if it was in his favorite room.

He waited a moment outside the door, sighing to himself when he realized the crying likely wasn't to end soon. Frowning, he sat with his back to the door, placing his swords beside him. No one else had to see this either.

The late afternoon air had a bit of a bite to it, but that did little to stop him from dozing off—only to be awoken what felt like minutes later by someone poking him in the face.

"Hey, Zoro," Nami said quietly, poking him again. She sat down next to him, curiosity oozing off her.

The sun had sunk even lower in the sky—dusk was not far off. Already his fingers itched to have even a hint of action. The three simple slashes hours earlier hadn't even been appetizers compared to a real fight, but they'd gotten him in a slicing mood.

He glanced at her, irritated. "What." His look was intended to scare her off, but it never seemed to work with Nami. She brushed the look off and sent one of her own—a steeped curiosity laced with amusement, before launching the question she'd obviously been holding back as long as possible.

"What's the story with you and Deirdre-san?"

He scoffed. Was there even a story?

"Not much to tell. She got me to help with one of her sabotage schemes, then bought me drinks as thanks."

He kept his voice quiet, remembering that Deirdre was still behind the door. It was silent now—she probably fell asleep too. Well, it was good at least one of them got some rest.

Nami wasn't satisfied by this answer. He could tell, and braced himself for another round of questioning. "When was this?"

"About three months back, I guess. A while." Long enough to forget most of what she looked like, and definitely long enough to forget her name.

"Hmm. And you just forgot about her? Nice going."

He frowned, defensive. "Well it's not like I was expecting to ever see her again." What, did Nami expect him to memorize every strange girl he ever came across?

"Still, you should keep track of the dates you go on," Nami said, inspecting her nails idly. She glanced sidelong at him, gauging his reaction.

It went over about as well as she'd predicted. Zoro's jaw dropped in disbelief. " _Dates_?"

"Well what else would it be? You went somewhere together, didn't you? She bought you drinks too—that's a sure sign."

"A sign of what?"

"That she likes you, idiot."

Another scoff. "Yeah, right."

"No, I'm serious. You saw how happy she was when she recognized you earlier, didn't you?"

He had indeed noticed the way Deirdre's face reddened, how her aura had flared to life when she said his name. He'd put it down to her injuries, making her emotions and energy spike at random. And his skill at observation haki wasn't the strongest anyway, so it wasn't like he had intimate knowledge of the girl's emotions. But it was just because he was a familiar face… right?

"Whatever," he grunted. This was not a conversation he wanted to have right now (or ever), especially not with the girl in question behind the door. "Even if she does, it's not important."

Nami narrowed her eyes at him. "I oughta smack you," she muttered.

"For what? I'm just saying it like it is."

She gave him a long, hard look. "You know I hope I'm wrong, for her sake. Lord knows she's got enough on her plate without having to worry about you too. Especially with that attitude."

He rolled his good eye. "Uh-huh."

She was right though. It would definitely be better for Deirdre if Nami were wrong. It would certainly be more convenient.

Nami got up, rolling her eyes and muttering something he couldn't make out. He closed his eye again and leaned back against the door, but found himself unable to sleep.

Just as well—the sun was near setting by now, and they still had to get ready to head out. He stood and stretched—the most luxurious part of napping, in his opinion, was the stretching afterwards—and opened the door to the crow's nest.

Zoro had guessed right—Deirdre had indeed fallen asleep, lying in one of the bay window seats, her absurdly large axe cradled in her arms. He stared thoughtfully for a long moment, noting the way her hair had escaped its ponytail and draped over her face. Even in sleep she was tense—her fingers and brows twitching occasionally, as if she was in the midst of a nightmare. With one hand she clutched the axe to her chest, the other wrapped around her abdomen.

She must've sensed him approaching in her sleep—in an instant the axe was pointed at his face. For a moment they just stared at each other, her heavy breathing the only sound.

She exhaled deeply, lowering the axe. "Oh, sweet sapphires. It's just you."

He consciously ignored the way her cheeks flushed, the way her hand reverently gripped the handle of her axe, and _especially_ the way her shirt collar dipped just enough for him to glimpse the skin beneath. So busy ignoring it that he almost missed what she was saying at all.

"The sun's about to set," he said, already mentally berating himself. Ugh—just what kind of fool was he becoming? He blamed Nami for putting this stupid idea in his head.

Deirdre didn't seem to notice his inner turmoil, though. "Thanks for waking me." She struggled to sit upright.

Without thinking, he stuck out his hand, eye glued to hers.

 _Don't you dare say anything_ , he thought, partly to her and partly to himself.

She didn't. He tried to ignore the way her hand felt in his as he pulled her up.

* * *

Deirdre was getting pretty good at finding her way around the ship now (as long as it was between the deck, infirmary, and kitchen), she realized, as she made her way to the infirmary for what must've been the fifth time that day.

She picked up a scrap of bandage as Chopper gave her another round of painkillers. "Can I have this?" she asked.

He looked concerned. "Why? Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Oh, no," she said. "I just don't feel right without something on my wrist." She motioned to her left wrist, which bore a vaguely heart-shaped birthmark about the size of a 500-Beri coin. It was a running joke in her family that she wore her heart on her sleeve. She'd taken to covering it as a child, after she'd noticed the disdainful looks and half-hidden whispers.

"Sure, then. As long as you're okay." Chopper looked like he had something else to say, but held it back out of politeness.

She flashed a quick placating smile. "Yep! Don't worry about me."

Chopper frowned. " _Why_ do all my patients say that?" he muttered to himself.

Expertly, she wrapped the strip around her wrist and used her teeth to tie it securely in place. Much better. Her old wristband (a gift from Orma) had vanished in the ocean, she supposed—she'd had it on when she was captured, but by the time she ended up on the Sunny it was gone. She'd felt a little exposed without it.

Chopper gave her one last look-over, finally setting her free once satisfied. "You should get something to eat before we leave. I'm sure Sanji will make you something."

Food sounded really good right then. She gently refused Chopper's offer to escort her there, deciding it was better to walk as far as she could on her own. The kitchen wasn't that far away, anyway.

Sanji looked surprised to see her in the kitchen, but pleased nonetheless. "Ah, Deirdre-chan! How are you doing?" he asked, pausing from doing the dishes.

"Better. I took a little nap," she said, taking a seat at the counter.

"Can I make you anything? Tea, coffee, a sandwich?"

"Something warm would be great. This island gets pretty cold at night." She swung her feet to relieve some of her tension; reminded of the time she got frostbite from staying out too late.

He grinned. "Of course. Anything for you, Deirdre-chan."

Deirdre gave a mildly uncomfortable smile in return. She figured he meant well, but it was weird to have a guy use such a cutesy honorific for her. No one had called her 'Deirdre–chan' in a _long_ time—at least, no one besides her sisters. Certainly not some guy her age.

All that discomfort flew away, however, when he presented her with a large, steaming mug of coffee.

"Ah, almost forgot," Sanji said, pulling the mug back towards him. "You like cream, I hope?"

Deirdre nodded. From seemingly out of nowhere he produced another cup, this one full of creamer, which he poured effortlessly in. In one fluid movement he finished pouring and used a spoon to shape it. Satisfied with his creation, he handed the mug back over.

There was now a dog's face smiling up at her from the cream. She gave a little half grin in return. "Aw, cute. Thanks, Sanji-kun."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Don't mention it, my lovely Deirdre-chan."

The grin became rather strained, almost a grimace. The honorific was one thing, but if he kept up this 'lovely' stuff there was gonna be words.

She turned to the coffee for solace (the dog really was cute though), and was halfway through it when Robin sat down next to her at the counter.

"You should see this."

She turned to see Robin holding out the photo of her parents.

"You figured it out?"

"Yes," she replied. "Your sister is a smart girl, you know. The keyword for the cipher was 'malamute.'"

Deirdre flipped the photo over, and saw Robin's neat handwriting underneath her sister's:

EMERGENCY PLAN START. HELP

"Oh, crap."

"I take it you know what the 'emergency plan' means, then?"

Deirdre sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Yeah—it means they're going to head for the bunker."

Sanji looked over his shoulder at them. "That's where we're headed anyway, right? Isn't that good?"

"It would be," Robin answered. "If they weren't being tracked by the enemy."

"Shit, you're right."

Deirdre groaned and cursed. "They're gonna lead Popov right to the others."

Their parents had taught them the basics of tracking (and how to avoid being tracked), but she didn't know just how much they remembered of it—especially considering the stress they must be feeling. And with so many Zoan on his payroll, there was bound to be someone good enough at following scent trails to find them (and get a nice bonus of the eight 'stolen' girls when they did).

She stood, wincing in pain, and grabbed Reaver. "We gotta go _now_. No more wasting time."

* * *

As Nami had predicted and Deirdre confirmed, the dusk brought with it a harsh chill and a promise of freezing rain. After a rather quick argument, it was decided that Deirdre would ride on Chopper (in his natural, quadruped form)—to which she only agreed once she was reminded how much slower walking on her own would be. Nami had handed her a large leather jacket, an odd gleam in her eye. Deirdre accepted it anyway, preferring Nami's look to the threat of freezing wind rain on her skin.

"I wouldn't mind carrying her," Sanji muttered, unheard.

"Okay, Deirdre," Luffy said, tying his hat securely in place. "Lead the way."

They set out, relying on Deirdre's memory of the landscape to navigate the woods surrounding the coast. It was more or less a straight shot from the cove to the bunker, and they'd even be able to avoid the town. Diamond City was just teeming with Popov's men, not to mention the less-than-friendly townspeople.

As precautions when building the bunker, Yuli and Romola had decided to keep it several miles away from the town limits, as well as to situate it within the mountain itself. Even after the mines had reopened, there were enough superstitious rumors to keep any self-preserving citizen from wandering the mountainside. Her parents had relied on those rumors to provide an extra layer of security—there was a high chance that, given the popular opinion on their family, if they needed to use the bunker they wouldn't want the townspeople to know about it.

The bunker was her family's safe space, their shelter in the storm. And now Popov was probably headed straight there. Worry rose in her throat. She didn't bother to squash it down as hard as usual, too busy trying to make out the best trail.

About ten minutes into their trek, Robin surreptitiously made her way next to Deirdre and Chopper, a curious gleam in her eye.

"Deirdre-san," she began, keeping her voice low so only they could hear it. "I've been meaning to ask you something. I'm sure Nami would like to know your reply as well."

"What is it?" Deirdre's eyes were glued to the trees ahead, scanning for familiar landmarks in the almost-dark.

"What's your relationship with Zoro?" Robin spoke casually, but the way she studied Deirdre for a reaction belied her interest.

Well _that_ was completely out of left field.

"What? With Zoro-kun?" Despite her best efforts, a bit of a blush rose to her face. She glanced to the back of the group, where he was positioned beside Luffy and Nami.

Chopper piped up from below her. "Actually, I've been wondering about that too."

She sighed. "There's nothing interesting, I promise. He was just at the right place at the right time, and I took advantage of the opportunity."

Robin lifted a brow, her expression making Deirdre realize the innuendo.

"Not like _that_! I was looking for a way to sabotage a drug deal without getting caught, and suddenly there he was, looking fit to fight anything that got in his way. So I did, and it worked."

"And the buying him drinks?"

"Just a thank-you," Deirdre said firmly, wishing Zoro hadn't blurted it out. "I don't make a habit of buying strangers drinks."

"Maybe you should. That turned out a rather fortuitous event."

She sighed, spotting the lightning-struck tree and purplish boulder that meant they needed to head more northeast. "Don't I know it. It's a miracle, it is." She could imagine several alternate scenarios where she didn't have the Strawhats backing her, and none of them were good.

Robin seemed to be satisfied, and turned the discussion towards the island's history (much to Deirdre's relief). Chopper had told her all about his crewmates while he changed her bandages, and she remembered that Robin was an archeologist from some far off island in West Blue. Deirdre related what she could—academic pursuits had never been her strong point, and she'd never really felt interested by anything the town's measly schoolhouse had to offer. She'd learned her letters and a little maths, and that was about the extent of it.

"Well, from what my dad told me, this island has been a mining economy for as long as anyone could remember—sixty or seventy years, at the very least. For a while the island prospered. They used to say you could stick your hand into the mountainside and come back out with a diamond. And then, about twenty-five years ago, there was a horrible mine explosion. One hundred and thirty-seven dead, four hundred and eight injured, and more than a hundred missing."

Deirdre recited the numbers with the ease of a child reciting a nursery rhyme. She'd heard these numbers all her life, but only really understood them for the past few years.

"They say it was cause they got too greedy and went after the fairy of the mountain, dug too deep too fast, didn't use the right methods to clear the shafts. It took out half of Diamond City, the largest town on the island, and almost all the entrances to the mines were destroyed—not to mention the mine shafts themselves. There had been minor accidents and explosions before, but none this bad. The mines closed permanently, and folk tried to make their living on the earth and sea."

She gestured to the high cliffs of the coast, where (if you squinted) rickety wooden walkways, stairs, and ladders zigzagged down to the nearly empty docks below. "You can see how well that's worked out. Everybody's poorer than a possum in winter, and thought Popov a godsend when he reopened the mines."

She bared her teeth in disgust when she said his name.

"And they just went back to working in the mines again, after they were closed for two decades?"

"Not immediately—for a while almost everyone was too superstitious to go back in the mines. Tales of the fairy of the mountain were enough to keep people away for a few months—until they decided that the hope of diamonds was better than the fear of her retribution."

Chopper looked over his shoulder at her. "Wait, is there actually a fairy in the mountain?"

"Dunno. Folks certainly believe it here though. There's not a lot of proof, really, just stories—but almost all the accidents here are blamed on her being upset."

 _And all the rest are blamed on my family_ , she wanted to add, but stopped herself.

"I personally don't think much about her, aside from telling the tales around the fire. It's entertaining, even if it isn't true."

"I'd love to hear them," Robin said. "Maybe once this is over, you'll regale us with them?"

Her tone had some layer to them Deirdre couldn't identify. Hope? Or just plain scholarly curiosity? Either way, she nodded. "Luck permitting, I'd be glad to sit with you guys around a campfire soon."

Of course, they had to get through tonight first. Deirdre would relax once Popov was dealt with, and not a moment sooner.

It took another forty-five minutes of hiking the nearly hidden forest trails, but they finally made it to the foot of the mountain where the bunker was nestled. The foothills had risen at an amiable angle, scraping inward from the steep cliffs of the shores towards the mountain. It rose from the ground steep and intimidating, buffered only by the towering deciduous forests at its base. Cliffs peppered the sides all the way to the peak, which formed a crisp angle. No one had dared settle atop it in centuries, and if you squinted you could spot the ruins above. The fading dusk light painted everything a somber grayish-blue.

But Deirdre turned their attention to a steep dip in the landscape, like a scoop had been taken from the base of the mountain. Trees and shrubbery camouflaged the angle of the ground as well as a door built right into the mountainside—which burst open almost as soon as they came across it.

A dark shape hurtled straight towards Deirdre, but was stopped in its tracks by a quick hand from Luffy—

 _Oh sweet_ _sapphires his arm stretched out ten yards what the hell?!_

From Luffy's extended fist hung a small child, squirming to get out of his grip. "Leggo!" she squealed. "That hurts!"

"Honey May!" Deirdre exclaimed, dismounting from Chopper's back, her shock at Luffy's reveal momentarily forgotten. Honey May stopped struggling at her voice, looking up with happy surprise.

"Nee-chan!"

Luffy lowered her and retracted his arm. Honey May scrambled to Deirdre as two more figures exited the bunker.

"Honey May, where the hell-," started the taller one, but stopped as her eyes fell on Deirdre.

There were a few moments of startled silence, and then the trees echoed with shouts as one of the girls leaned back into the bunker and yelled "Deirdre-san's back!"

Deirdre herded them back to the door, shushing them. "Guys, quiet! Do you _want_ to be found?"

They lowered their voices, but didn't stop their deluge of questions.

"Who're these guys? Where have you been? Did you bring supplies?"

"I will answer everything once you _get back inside_ ," she hissed, motioning with her head for the Strawhats to follow.

They did, and she closed the thick iron door with a _clack_ , doing up the four locks before turning towards the gaggle of girls.

Eight girls stood before her expectantly, and Deirdre exhaled deeply from her nose in anticipation of the long explanation ahead. Sweet sapphires, she didn't have time for this.

"Okay, guys, before anything else, be polite and introduce yourselves."

They did so quickly, almost talking over each other in their impatience. The Strawhat crew did so in turn, feeling a little awkward at the forced courtesies. Deirdre had explained to them that there were eleven girls in her care, but they hadn't realized exactly how big of a group that was until they'd been faced with it.

"She's been doing this for a year?" Usopp whispered to Sanji in mild shock.

"Okay, now that the formalities are over," Deirdre sighed, running a hand through her bangs, letting her shoulders relax, "I'm just so glad you guys are all safe." She dove in for a quick group hug, pulling back almost as soon as it started.

"There's a lot to tell you guys. I'll try to keep it short."

Everyone took a seat where they could—chairs were in short supply with eight girls in the bunker, let alone eighteen people altogether. In fact, the whole bunker was in short supply—it had obviously been meant to hold maybe six people in comfortable living space, and with everyone inside it was getting just a teensy bit cramped. The low ceiling didn't help much either. But they refrained from complaining, instead listening quietly as their new friend explained the situation to her adopted sisters.

"Okay, before you go complaining," Deirdre began, sitting on a chair Chopper had insisted upon, "I'm so sorry for missing the supply drop the other day. I was actually going to head here when, well—I got found out."

There was silence as all the girls took this information in. Deirdre continued.

She did her best to quickly retell it-how she'd been captured on her way back from a mission and thrown in an abandoned mineshaft. How they'd had her in a weak pair of cuffs; from using a discard pickaxe to wrench them off to digging her way out of the side of the mountain to escape. The girls were quiet and attentive, though their demeanors became more worried as tthey realized the extent of the situation.

"Unfortunately, Zima caught up to me while I was escaping. Gave me this as a parting gift." She raised her shirt a little to show her bandages.

Kaske gave a low whistle. "That'll be one hell of a scar."

Deirdre snorted. "Tell me about it."

"But they don't know where we are, right?" asked Etalind, the small, dark girl with haunted eyes.

"Of course not. I would never abandon you guys."

A stick thin fishgirl spoke up from beside Dierdre; her green skin and wide yellow eyes a stark contrast to the humans around her. "But where's Orma? And Gerti and Appi?"

"Lindy…" Deirdre started, laying a hand on her shoulder gently. "That's where I'm going next. They should be on their way here—we're going to find them."

"Are they in trouble?"

"Yes. But hopefully not for long."

"That bastard's after them, isn't he?" Kaske said, more of a statement than a question.

Deirdre nodded solemnly. "Those goons attacked the homestead, and they ran. Orma left a note that they were on their way here, but obviously something's wrong."

This quickly led to another discussion about who would stay to protect the bunker and who would go find the missing girls—which included most of the girls themselves. More than half of them insisted on going along, but Deirdre shut it down.

"No way," she said. "I am not going to risk you all getting found by Popov. If they find you, there's no guarantee I'll be able to get you back. You'll be slaves again. I won't let that happen."

"But—"

"Lindy, Kaske, I'm glad you want to help protect them. I know how you feel. But I can _not_ allow you to put yourselves at risk too. This is _my_ responsibilty."

The girls skulked; worry and anger etched on their faces clear as day.

"Don't worry, guys. We'll get them back. I promise."

Kaske blew out her nose in a huff. "We know. Just be safe."

Eventually, it was decided (partly through volunteering and partly through drawing straws): Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Franky, and Brooke would stay with the girls as protection in case Popov discovered the bunker. Meanwhile, Luffy, Zoro, Chopper, Robin, and Deirdre would be the search party. Chopper was against Deirdre coming along, but he knew it was pointless to argue. Deirdre knew the terrain best out of all of them, not to mention she would likely go off on her own if she deemed it necessary.

As soon as the assignments were decided, they headed out—but not before Deirdre turned one last time at the door and looked at the impromptu babysitters with solemnity.

"Please," she said quietly, "keep them safe."

Satisfied with their nods, she joined the others in the night.

* * *

Once they were a good distance from the bunker, Deirdre turned to see the others close behind. They were traveling at a decent clip, and she used one hand to hold her bangs back from her face. Not that it really improved visibility that much—it was well past sundown now, and everything was dark and ill defined.

Luffy was a Devil Fruit user too. She should've seen it coming, really—he had an unusually strong aura, especially given his age and small, wiry stature. What was odd was that Chopper, in all his chattering about his crewmates, had never mentioned it. Must've slipped his mind. In any case, it made Deirdre feel a bit better about dragging them all into this mess.

More importantly, where were her sisters? Orma wouldn't have lied in that note—they should have made it to the bunker well before she did. Did they somehow change their emergency plan without telling her? No, Orma would have just written it plainly if they had. They wouldn't have, anyway. They knew what kind of person Popov was, how vital it was that they follow the original plan.

…Right?

Ugh, no hope for it then. She'd have to try that trick again. Not that it had ever worked that well before, but it was the only thing she could do right now.

She leaned down to talk to Chopper below her. "Doctor-chan, I know you said I couldn't shift—"

"Absolutely not!" he snapped.

"No, listen-what if I only shifted a part of me? Not my stomach."

He paused, thinking. "I suppose that wouldn't affect your wound, hypothetically. But is that even possible?"

"Wait, you can't do that?"

"And you can?"

"Yes, but I don't know if I can do what I want with it. It's tricky."

Chopper leapt smoothly over a fallen log, as did the rest of the group.

"Well, I don't see any reason not to try. And I have a feeling you'd do it even if I told you not to."

She grinned weakly. "You know me so well already, Doctor-chan. Could you stop for a second though? I'm not sure I can do it while we're moving."

Deirdre ignored the stares from the group and closed her eyes and focused. First were the ears—she reminded herself how it felt to change form, become a dog. The act of transforming was the same, but she had to limit it to only the ears. She'd practiced this sort of thing before to entertain herself and her sisters—changing her ears, her hands into claws, sharpening her teeth, and sometimes giving herself a tail. The real trick was the listening, though. Usually she just listened across long distances while in dog form, but she didn't want to decommission herself by ripping her stitches before an actual fight. So she had to make do—both actions required intense concentration on their own, and combining them was even trickier. But it meant a better chance at actually fighting later, so she'd certainly try it.

With the transformation, the sounds of the forest came alive: the rustle of wind, an owl hooting, a nearby stream bubbling to her left, and (easiest to pick up) the breathing of the other members of the search team. Listening to the physical sounds was easy, though. Now she had to listen for an feeling.

She opened her mind, mentally probing the surrounding area for the familiar touch of her sisters' auras.

"Interesting," Robin said quietly, catching on, but stopped when Deirdre's ear twitched momentarily in her direction.

Nothing in the first half mile. Well, she hadn't expected them to be close by. She kept reaching.

And reaching. And reaching. Sweat beaded on her forehead.

Finally, she found them—clustered together and tenser than a poorly tuned guitar. There were other presences beside them, faint and unfamiliar. They gave her a bad feeling.

 _Oh_ no, she thought in alarm, finally realizing their location. Her concentration snapped, and everything felt muffled and silent. Subconsciously, she placed a hand to her ear and felt that it was human again.

She cursed.

"What? Did you find them?"

"Yeah, and it's not good," Deirdre said, wiping sweat off her brow. "They're in the city."

Diamond City was a place Deirdre actively avoided—at least, she did in her human form. The same was true for her sisters, and especially in recent years. They would never go there unless forced—which made the other auras she felt (faint and indistinguishable from this distance) a bad omen. Had they been caught? The knot in her stomach twisted and sunk lower.

Thankfully it was only a few miles to the edge of town, and the five of them entered the outskirts before the end of the hour. Diamond City (or rather, what was left of it) settled squarely on the banks of the river, with squat stone buildings and bridges all the same blue-gray—lit only by the lanterns and limited electric lights in the city.

Once they reached the outskirts, Deirdre stopped them again for another listen. Unfortunately the girls had moved as well, and were almost completely outside of town—headed right for Popov's headquarters. She cursed again.

"Okay, we need to head this way—" she started, pointing in the direction of the riverbank.

A familiar voice stopped her cold.

"Where do you think you're going, Doran?"

A figure stepped out of a nearby alley, holding a lantern just high enough for her to make out his features; a deceptively handsome man of perhaps twenty-five, with a familiar glimmer of disgust in his blue eyes. Instinctively, she returned the look. Behind him stood a good twenty or so of the other townspeople.

"I don't have time for this, Hobbs."

"Oh, what a shame," he half-sneered.

"I'm serious—you all either move out or I'll make you." She let a growl creep into her voice. It didn't have the intended effect.

Hobbes gave the five of them a once-over, taking in the way Deirdre gripped her abdomen, then turned.

"What do you say? Should we tell her first, or should we just arrest her?"

A general vote of assent came from the group. Shouts echoed down the street, beckoned by the noise. It seemed like all of Diamond City's citizens were on the streets tonight. Popov must have done something to get them riled up—there were more guns and picks than she could count.

Confused, Robin and the others turned to Deirdre. "What's this about? Are you running from the law, Deirdre-san?"

"Not as far as I know," Deirdre said. She turned back to Hobbs suspiciously. "What's this all about?"

Hobbs pulled out a pistol, pointing it directly at her chest. "You're under arrest, Doran. Popov told us about your curse."

Deirdre's blood ran cold.

"My…my curse?"

She had been twelve when she and her sisters found the strange-looking apple among the day's crop. The four of them had argued over what to do with it; finally daring Deirdre to eat it. She found out rather quickly that it was no rotten apple—the first transformation had been fast and almost painful, and the terrified faces of her sisters were forever seared in her mind.

It took hours for their parents to calm them all down, let alone talk Deirdre through shifting back. Romola and Yuli had come across their fair share of Devil Fruit users so they knew a bit of what they were dealing with, but neither really knew exactly how to get their child back to human form. Finally, she changed back on her own, and they called a family meeting right there and then in the middle of the orchard.

Her parents explained what had happened as best they could, and warned Deirdre to keep her new powers a secret. Yuli helped her practice shifting and control, and Romola had trained her to use the power to her advantage in a fight.

 _We'll make the best of it_ , they'd said.

And now here she was, staring down a mob of people she'd known all her life. She could imagine just how Popov told them just enough truth to twist it, make her look like a monster.

She swallowed. "I'm not cursed," she spat. "Just what did that bastard tell you, huh?"

"How you turn into a wolf and eat our livestock and attack our children," he clarified, and cocked his gun. "Gave us some special bullets too. Seastone, or something."

She caught how Robin's eyes widened slightly in her peripheral vision. Seastone. Her mom had warned her about that.

"You can't trust anything Popov says, you all know that." She tried to be entreating, but saw no empathy in the eyes of the mob.

"Oh, we didn't think it was true, you know. Popov's not exactly liked here either, but he did give us a nice bit of incriminating evidence against you."

"Well I'd like to see whatever it is," Deirdre replied petulantly. Maybe there was a possibility to refute it, prove her innocence.

"Here's your proof," he said, ripping the bandage off her wrist and pointing. "She has the same mark as the wolf that's been terrorizing the island!"

Oh. No refuting that.

A murmur arose from the crowd.

Luffy laid a hand on her shoulder, making her jump. "Deirdre, d'you want me to take 'em out?"

"No!" she whispered quickly. "If we attack, that would just make it worse."

Luffy looked at her dubiously. "You sure? What if we just knocked all of them out?"

"It's not just me I'm worried about, remember? These people hate my family enough as it is—I'm not going to give them another reason. Besides, they're not the ones that _really_ deserve the beating right now."

"Fine."

"Thank you, Luffy-kun. Besides, maybe I can talk my way out of this." Not that talking was ever really her strong suit, but it was worth a shot.

She dismounted and walked closer to the mob, her hands up. Hobbs kept his gun aimed straight at her chest.

"Guys, please—can't my arrest wait until my sisters are safe?"

This had the opposite of its intended effect—the crowd burst into shouts and angry mutterings.

"As if they weren't in on it!"

"You're all demons."

"They're just as guilty—harboring a killer!"

Rage built in her chest and throat, and she snapped. So much for talking it out.

"You idiots don't get it!" she nearly shouted. "Popov's lying to you—to everyone! Opening the mines again was just a way to fund his slave trading and drug deals. I've _seen_ them—in fact, that's why he hired me! Cause I'm strong and fast and needed the damn money. And he lied to me, too! I thought I was transporting fruit for two whole years, but surprise! It's _drugs_. And _slaves_. And now he's making you all think _I'm_ the reason those people have gone missing, because it's really him!"

Her voice rose in volume as she went on, and by the end she realized she'd walked right into the barrel of Hobbs' gun. It nestled menacingly at her collarbone.

His reply was simple.

"Save it for the trial, wolf."

Someone behind Hobbs pulled out a thick pair of stone cuffs. Something deep inside her panicked at the sight of them—her instincts told her that if that stone touched her skin, she would be dead for sure.

Nausea threatened to overwhelm her; everyone was talking at once. The insults came too fast; she didn't even have time to process them all. So much hatred from the townspeople—she'd known the Dorans were disliked, even distrusted, but the open hatred was a surprise. These people blamed her for the missing people. Blamed her mother for being a pirate, a witch. Popov had probably had the easiest time convincing them of her crimes.

Was there no way to peacefully convince them? They were almost as bloodthirsty as Popov himself.

"We're taking her to get her sisters," Luffy insisted, fearlessly moving to stand beside her. "Deirdre, are you still certain we shouldn't kick their asses?"

She didn't answer. She knew even one of her companions could easily take out this crowd, but the thought of the consequences made her stomach churn. Retaliation would fall not only on her, but the rest of her family as well.

Hobbs was adamant. "You're not leaving here, witch. You need to pay for your crimes."

She looked to the others for help—Luffy seemed more than ready to throw some punches (a sentiment she understood well), and the others appeared close to the same conclusion. Her eyes fell to Zoro, who was frowning a little more than usual.

"What if someone takes her place?" he asked suddenly.

The mob thought it over, and Deirdre could practically feel the gears turning as they weighed their options. "That's acceptable. You volunteering?"

"Yeah," he said. He spoke quickly, looking surprised even as it came out.

Deirdre opened her mouth in protest. "What? No!"

Hobbs holstered the pistol. "Fine. We'll give you a grace period, Doran. You have until sunup to get your final arrangements in order. The trial starts at dawn, with or without you."

"Zoro…," Luffy said. A silent conversation passed between crewmates, one that Deirdre couldn't quite follow. But it seemed like they accepted their crewmate's decision.

She didn't though—what the _hell_? Helping her fight was one thing, taking her place in a one-sided trial was something else completely.

Too many questions flooded her mouth. She could get out only one.

"Zoro-kun, why?"

His gaze was steady; only the hand gripping a sword hilt belied any tension.

"You should be the one to save your family, Deirdre."

For a long moment she just stood there, searching his face for some clue to his reasoning, his words echoing in her head. Why were these people—maybe more importantly, why was _he_ —helping her so much? What had she done to deserve all this?

Suddenly, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, burying her head in the crook of his neck. Zoro staggered under her, stiff in shock and—was that embarrassment? She didn't care. She'd been holding back from the public displays of affection until she knew how these people felt about it, but at this moment she was way too grateful to stop herself. She tried to send all her emotions into this hug: all her gratitude, her relief, and hope.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Zoro-kun, you have no idea how much this means to me."

He was silent, eventually returning the hug with one awkward hand.

So much for observation haki. He hadn't seen it coming at all.

Deirdre finally released him, standing tall with renewed determination.

"We'll be back by sunup for sure," she assured him.

He almost smiled. "I know."

* * *

 **A/N: oh good grief this got so long… I really wanted to end the chapter on this scene though. Reviews/comments are really appreciated! Especially for this chapter-do you guys feel this flowed well/made logical sense? Constructive criticism is welcome tbh.**


	5. Someone's Dying Come Sunup

**A/N: Wow this took longer than I thought it would.. I think we're about a little less than halfway through. Here's a link to the unofficial EFDC soundtrack (ie what I listen to while I write this): suan. fm/mix/zJyYCTm**

 **As always, please R &R! Let me know if I'm writing something stupid so I can fix it lol. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

To say that Zoro was surprised would be an understatement. He'd been planning to just slice the crowd down, forget Deirdre's wishes. But then he'd seen the way her eyes widened in fear—not for herself, but for her sisters that were getting farther and farther away with each passing second. One look at her face and his mouth opened on its own—and now here he was, in a stockade in her stead.

Why the hell did he do this again?

The mob had shackled and herded him into what they called the judicial building, but it seemed more like a recently repurposed stable. One of the dim, dank, hay-smelling rooms had a wooden stockade in the center, in which he was now locked.

He hadn't gotten a good look at the 'city'; aside from the meager light of intermittent lanterns and streetlamps, the city was almost completely dark. If there was any electrical power on this island, it wasn't here.

What he had been able to see was fairly standard for the poorer towns he'd visited—dirt streets, wood and brick buildings that hugged together in straight rows, empty laundry lines crisscrossing like netting overhead. There was an air of wealth long-gone in some of the people's faces and clothes; many of the older members of the mob looked as if a noble had been dragged through the mud for a few years—all the frills and stitching dyed the same dirty brown. Did they still consider themselves above their peers under all that grime? Based on his previous experiences with rich people, he felt safe in assuming so.

The man Deirdre had called Hobbs approached the stockade and checked the lantern's oil. His blue eyes eyes were narrowed in barely disguised disdain; same as when he'd looked at Deirdre not a half-hour before.

"Hey, you," Hobbs said, shutting the lantern with a click.

Zoro stared back, disinterested.

"Why'd you help that witch? You know she'll just leave you here to die."

Zoro didn't reply. Even if he did know the answer himself, there was no way in hell he'd tell this guy.

Hobbs scoffed, turning to walk out the door. "Whatever. That girl's a demon, blood and all. Risk your neck to help her if you want—either way, _someone's_ dying come sunup."

Zoro's fingers itched to cut him. Unfortunately, his swords were in some other room, having been taken once he'd offered himself in Deirdre's place. He settled for scowling at Hobb's back as he left.

The feeling of wood against his wrists was familiar, bringing back memories he hadn't thought about in a long time. What would Luffy say, seeing him willingly allow himself to be locked up? But this time was different. This was a gift.

Did that make him a hero? The thought made him frown.

But then again, it wasn't completely unselfish. The feeling of Deirdre's touch lingered on his skin, her breath almost seared on his neck from where she'd whispered to him. He stared at the hand that had touched her back (touched his jacket, rather. Damn that Nami, making him see Deirdre wearing his clothes).

And though he'd never admit it, Zoro knew he'd do almost anything to feel her arms around his neck again.

* * *

The bunker was surprisingly comfy, crowded as it was. The thirteen of them (eight girls and five pirates) gelled surprisingly well together; everyone calmed down a little once Deirdre and the other four had finally departed.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Brooke strummed his guitar in the corner, taking requests from the others. Surprisingly, one of the younger girls, Hester, knew all of his songs, and she was ridiculously pleased to find out the talking skeleton thing wasn't just a stage persona. She thrust a marker in Brooke's bony face, asking rather abruptly for him to sign her arm. He complied, and her speckled face nearly glowed with happiness.

Sanji took to preparing a meal for the girls once he'd learned they hadn't eaten since lunch. He'd held back a sigh when he'd spotted the kitchen—small and bare bones, with an ornery stove (apparently it required a sturdy kick to get started). Nevertheless, within minutes he had the beginnings of a hearty dinner going.

Nami and a few of the older girls chatted easily at the table. The gossip was a great way to keep her mind from the violence her crewmates were walking into. Not that she doubted their strength, but out of the five who went on the search team, Robin was the only one with the brains to match her brawn.

Three of the older girls sat with her at the tiny wooden table, regaling her with some of their better stories. Nami learned a good deal about life in the bunker—the four oldest took turns keeping watch, and the other chores were rotated amongst everyone. Even so, boredom was a constant problem—the girls had to find new ways to entertain themselves while hiding for their lives. The current trend in the bunker was chess; Krissa (the third oldest, a dark girl with red eyes and a pointed nose) had carved a set of pieces herself and was now teaching the rest of them how to play.

Once or twice Sanji interrupted and served them all tea, and Nami was pleased to note he was only friendly, not flirtatious.

Krissa turned to Nami, nursing her tea. "So that quiet guy was Zoro-san, right? He's not as good looking as Deirdre-san described him."

Nami tried to keep from laughing in her surprise. "She told you guys about him?"

"Of course," Krissa said. "She tells us about all her missions. We helped come up with the ways to sabotage them, too." She flipped her long braid over her shoulder with pride.

"Somehow I'm not surprised," Nami said, smiling a little. She leaned closer. "So what did she say about him?"

"Oh, not too much. Just that he was handsome, and a swordsman, and fought well. From the way she was blushing, I'd say she fancies him."

There was a general noise of assent around the table. "Oh, for sure."

"Deirdre-neesan has a weird taste in men."

"Oh, stop it Griska-chan—just cause you like ultra-beefy guys doesn't mean everyone else should."

They bickered easily—more easily than Nami would've expected for eight strangers. But then again, they had spent months together in close quarters, some of them almost a full year here. She supposed the threat of capture must've drawn them quite close together.

That thought rather doused the flicker of pride she'd felt after hearing her hunch about Deirdre had been right. Somber once again, she turned her attention back to her tea and the chatter of the girls. This time she could hear the barely-hidden anxiety layered under the girls' conversation.

Across the bunker, two particularly hardy girls barraged Franky, intent on climbing his metal arms. He relented. Within minutes, he let them press his nose and change his hairstyle, which they found hilarious. Raucous laughter emanated from his corner of the room as the two girls tried to figure out his other robot secrets.

Dinner was served before long—a steaming pot of fried potatoes, peas, onions, and bacon served with thick, dark slices of bread and a rich brown sauce. The girls nearly shouted for joy at the sight of it, and everyone dug in with gusto.

Nami found herself once again trying to make light conversation, in an attempt to ease the girls' tension and her own.

"So… how long have you guys been here?" she asked, taking a bite.

It was a few moments before anyone answered, as if everyone was waiting for someone else to go first.

Finally, Lindy, the skinny Fishman girl, spoke.

"I was the first," she said quietly. "It was two years ago. Deirdre-san was transporting the crate I was in, and she… she got me out. I want to go back to Fishman Island, but I don't have a way to get there. Deirdre-san's been saving up to buy me a charter on a boat heading back."

"She has for all of us," Krissa said. "Others, too. Anyone that has a place to go back to, she's been either saving up to buy us a ticket or trying to find ways to smuggle us out."

Griska smiled ruefully. "We're just the difficult ones."

"Some of us are too young to travel on our own, others have homes but they're incredibly hard to get to, or… or we don't have any home to get back to anyway."

Nami regretted asking. This was painful—more painful than any child should have to suffer. But the conversation was out of her hands now; words spilled from the girls uncompelled.

"I was a runaway," one of them said, and others nodded. "From South Blue. I was picked up by slavers and brought to the New World to be sold, but Deirdre-nee-san found me and smuggled me free before my auction."

More girls shared their stories—four of them were orphans and runaways, two were from islands too expensive to travel to, and of those six two of them were too young to travel by themselves. And then there was Honey May, who was in all three categories; she was only six and already an orphan, not to mention the fact that she apparently hailed from Skypeia—her tiny wings were proof enough of that. The Strawhats knew from experience how hard it would be to travel there.

Kaske, the sturdy-looking girl with drooping eyes, gave a fleeting smile in an effort to lift the mood. "But Deirdre-san gave us all hope. She—she adopted us. That's what she calls it. It was kind of ridiculous at first—Deirdre-san's not that much older than us herself, but she took responsibility for all of us just like that. And not just us; she's bribed people out of her own pocket to say that other girls died, or were stolen by other traders, or whatever, but she really set them free. She even has contacts with the Revolutionary Army, and tips them off about deals when she can."

"That's right," Griska added. "Any time we start to feel downtrodden or hopeless, Deirdre-san reminds us that there are at least a few people who care about us."

None of the Strawhats knew what to say after all that, so they stayed quiet. Franky was trying to hold back tears.

"Ever since the first day, Deirdre-nee-san's promised to get rid of Popov and set us free," Lindy said.

Kaske nodded. "I wish we could do something more than just hide."

Some of the girls nodded too, others showed their agreement plain on their faces.

Nami struggled to find something to say, but quickly gave up. These girls didn't need someone to try and tell them that it was 'all right.' It wasn't 'all right,' had never been 'all right,' and wouldn't be 'all right' until they had their freedom again.

"This'll all end soon," Sanji said, not looking up from lighting another cigarette. Nami could tell he wasn't spouting platitudes; he actually meant it.

"If there's anything I know for certain," he continued, "It's that our captain is going to beat the shit out of that bastard, and he's probably headed there right now."

"And he can do it?" Griska asked skeptically. "No offense, but he looked a little…" She trailed off, unable to find the right word.

Franky chuckled, his eyes dry now. "Not a doubt. That kid's gonna be the Pirate King someday. A small fry like Popov ain't gonna stop him."

Usopp took over the conversation then, regaling everyone with tales of Luffy's (and, according to him, his) numerous exploits, such as his defeat of the ex-Shichibukai Crocodile, breaking _into_ Impel Down and then breaking _out_ , and, possibly the best of all, punching a Celestial Dragon in the face.

The storytelling continued well into the night, and Nami was glad they could give the girls even a small respite from their well-deserved anxieties. If they were lucky, by the time Luffy returned, so would their freedom.

* * *

That rain Nami had predicted arrived not five minutes after leaving the town, threating to freeze Deirdre's fingers off. She shoved them into Chopper's thick fur for warmth, feeling a little guilty that only she could enjoy it.

On top of chilling them to the bone, the rain effectively destroyed any chance of seeing. The landscape turned to a cold, wet, dark, and scentless screen.

But she would have to make it work. She had a gut feeling about her sisters' location anyway, although it didn't thrill her. It had taken her a solid few seconds to even voice it to Luffy and the others, and she hated that she could hear the fear in her own voice.

Robin's response cut clearly through the rain. "And you're sure they're going to the mines?"

"Have to be," Deirdre replied grimly. "There's nothing else this side of the city, besides the mountainside and some trees."

"They couldn't be hiding out in the woods or something?" Luffy asked.

"Maybe. But the mines are way more defendable."

 _And they scare me witless_ , she wanted to add, but didn't.

She'd always had a healthy wariness of holes and other deep, dark places, but her fear of the mines had grown exponentially after her parents died. For the first few months she refused to even speak of them, the mere words too painful a reminder of how dangerous they were. Mines collapsed, blew up, filled with poisonous gas, caused landslides. Mines killed.

Her fear was probably a little childish in its intensity, sure, but she'd seen no reason to give it up—until now. Popov knew how skittish she was around the mines. It was no stretch of the imagination to think he'd hole away down there in an attempt to stave her off.

That fear of the mines was likely her only similarity with most of the citizens of Diamond City, and blew her away how fast they'd gone back to the mines after the reopening. Sure, they all needed the money, she understood that—but she didn't know how they could just up and forget all the superstitions they'd ingrained in themselves for so long. What had happened to the firm belief in the fairy of the mountain? Mine madness? The knockers? It was as if Popov's money had washed all fear of the supernatural from their hearts—at least, when it came to the mines. The townspeople still had a hatred of the 'unnatural' when it was the Dorans they were talking about.

"Well, let's get going, then," Luffy said, and Deirdre obediently led the way.

* * *

Deirdre's instincts were right, unfortunately. The girls were indeed headed to the mines, practically dragged there by Popov and a small army of his seedier employees.

They had nabbed them just two miles short of the bunker, caught between a cliff and the river. Gerti, the second oldest of the four Doran girls, had just barely gotten her boots wet when a hand closed around the back of her sweater and yanked, lifting her from the water like she was nothing. She'd gasped and whipped her head around—only to see Orma and Appi had already been captured.

Gerti cursed; the worst one she knew. Orma and Appi followed suit.

"Well, that isn't how you should talk to your benefactor, now is it?" a voice echoed from behind whoever was holding her. A man followed the voice, appearing segmented as the moon illuminated him through the trees. It was enough to recognize him, though. Erasing their first meeting from their minds was almost impossible—how could you forget the person who told you your parents were dead?

Popov's voice was smooth as lard and twice as slick. "Hello, girls. Nice to see you again."

"Wish we could return the sentiment," Gerti spat, channeling her best Deirdre impression as an attempt to instill courage. Fake it til you make it, right?

It fell a little short, though. Already she could see her sisters' shaking, feel her own legs wobbling a little even as she was held up.

Popov saw it too. He grinned maliciously.

"Oh, don't be scared, girls. We're just gonna go on a little trip." His tone was filled with false soothing, which faded in an instant as he barked orders to his men. "Tie 'em up and throw 'em in the wagon," he said. "We don't want another escape." Popov shot a pointed look at the giant of a man holding Gerti.

Escape. So Deirdre had gotten away.

Relief coursed through Gerti's body as she pieced together what must have happened to their older sister. Deirdre had gone missing days ago—no, not missing. Captured. But she escaped, somehow. Deirdre was alive, and Gerti would bet the farm that she was coming to get them right now.

Her spirits fell just as quickly as they had risen, however, as she came to another conclusion: they were the bait.

And she was right—Popov's men dragged the three of them kicking and cursing through the outskirts of Diamond City and towards the mines.

"Let's see if the dog-girl comes after you here," the giant man called Zima (Gerti recognized him from the numerous stories Deirdre had told the girls about her work) sneered in his thick accent. He, too, must know how the mines terrified the Doran girls. Orma was the least scared of the four, but even she was reluctant to go near them at all.

Going inside the mines seemed to suck the breath from their bodies. Suddenly everything was too much—too dark, too windy, too many echoing sounds. Appi started crying. Gerti felt sick.

These were the mines that took their parents. And now, they were going to take the rest of the family.

* * *

The entrance to the mines loomed ahead of Deirdre like an open mouth, at least eight feet tall. It was barely visible in the near-itch darkness, but she could sense its presence like a ghost above her.

It surprised her how easily she could walk into the place. She'd tried to enter the mines before for various reasons, but had never been able to make herself do it. But now? Now it was the easiest choice she'd made in years. Screw the mines. She'd walk through hell to get her family back.

And in a way, she was.

If outside had been cold and dark, the mines were ten times worse; the only light in the cave came from dim lanterns hanging at long intervals on the walls. Anything outside of their meager circles of light was in pitch-blackness. The air inside the mines was freezing, and made Deirdre wish she could transform freely for what must've been the millionth time that day.

Robin made a judgment call and summoned a hand to sprout from the wall and snatch a lantern, holding it out to herself.

"I'll walk ahead," she said as she grabbed a second the same way, putting it this time on one of Chopper's antlers. It swung there, illuminating the uneasy look on Deirdre's face.

Luffy spoke rather suddenly, startling her. "You afraid?"

Her grip tightened in Chopper's thick fur. She nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly.

"Yeah." Her voice was small and quiet.

She couldn't make out his face in the darkness, and part of her didn't want to see it. Quickly, she transformed—only her head, no time to focus on anything more specific than that—and began to sniff for a trail.

"Whoa!" Luffy said loudly. "You look like an actual werewolf!"

Deirdre barely stopped herself from glaring at him, and he just grinned.

It wasn't long til she had the scent, and they set off to follow it. Deirdre changed her head back to normal, feeling self-conscious.

"Luffy," Chopper asked suddenly, turning his head to face his captain while they walked, "Why d'you think Zoro did that back there? I've been trying to puzzle it out and I can't think of anything that makes sense."

Deirdre couldn't help but feel a blush rising on her face (she prayed that it wasn't visible). She had no idea either. Just what had possessed Zoro to do that? And did Luffy know?

"It's certainly uncharacteristic of him," Robin added.

"R-really?"

"Definitely."

Luffy nodded, though Deirdre couldn't see it. "It looked like he was serious about it, though."

He seemed to Deirdre like the type to be serious about everything, so she wasn't sure what this statement was supposed to prove.

Part of her wanted to shut down any and all conversation; the other, larger part was relieved to have something else to talk about. Normally, she and her sisters had a hard time doing anything but talking. It was nice to have something as familiar as chatter right now, even if these were near-strangers talking about another near-stranger's mysterious (and apparently abnormal) behavior.

"You know, I'm curious if he'll actually stay there all night," Robin mused.

Luffy laughed. "Well, he could definitely get out if he wanted to."

No doubt about that. Deirdre wished she'd be able to see it if he did. Watching Hobbs get the crap beaten out of him would definitely raise her spirits right now.

(Of course, Popov was the one she was really after. She indulged herself and briefly imagined how her fist would feel connecting with his nose, and decided it would make an absolutely lovely crunching sound.)

The tunnel went almost another monotonous half mile before anything happened. And then, suddenly, she felt it—the familiar presence of her sisters' auras. It was faint, but it was there, available to her without having to transform her ears again. Her heart rose in her chest, and she tightened her grip in Chopper's fur in her excitement.

"Whoa, you all right, Deirdre-san?"

"I can feel them now—they're this way!" Deirdre said, relief and excitement making her speak quickly. "To the right!"

Their path was blocked, however, by a thick pair of doors marked 'SHAFT 4," which was barely visible in the dim light of Robin's lantern. Deirdre frowned at them. There was a keyhole, so she could probably pick the—

Before she could finish that thought, Luffy took one look at the doors, wound up his arm like he was pitching softball, and punched. The doors blasted backwards like the cap on a shaken soda bottle, the sounds of wrenched metal echoing down the mineshaft.

He dusted his hands like he'd just finished a household chore. Deirdre gaped.

The incredulity faded quickly, replaced by sullen jealousy (she could've probably done that, if not for the 'no transforming' thing. Probably.), and then both were wiped away by the call of her family's auras. They were so close.

If there had been lanterns beyond the doorframe of shaft four, they either hadn't been lit or had been destroyed by the doors' sudden launch into the tunnel. Either way, it was dark as pitch inside. The echoes rang faintly down the length of the tunnel, far into the distance.

Before they could step into shaft four, Chopper and Luffy jerked to attention, the former swiveling his ears forward to listen. Deirdre and Robin peered down the mineshaft, trying in vain to see whatever it was they'd heard.

"Someone's just up ahead," Chopper breathed.

Deirdre cursed. She'd been so focused on her sisters' auras that she hadn't been looking out for anyone else's. Sloppy.

A familiar, accented voice rang from somewhere ahead in the darkness.

"You came. Utkin will be upset he lost another bet."

Zima.

At his voice the gash in her abdomen throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

"Hey, Zima, how's your leg treating you?" Deirdre tried to alleviate her anxiety with some smack talk (another tip from her mother, and a proven method, she'd found). Zima had yet to walk into the light, so she couldn't tell his condition. If she was lucky, it would be considerably less than his full strength—but then again, her luck had never been that great.

"Oh, don't worry about me. It's just a little sore," Zima drawled in his thick accent as he finally stepped into the lantern's dim light. He was gigantic—so tall the top of his head brushed the tunnel ceiling, and wide enough to effectively block the path. Big as he was, though, none of her new friends seemed to think him particularly intimidating; Robin's look was calculating but otherwise neutral. Chopper had stiffened in anger beneath her. Luffy wasn't even paying attention—he was too busy cleaning his ear with his finger.

"Damn, and here I was hoping I'd taken it completely off," Deirdre muttered, sliding off Chopper's back and grabbing Reaver. She was going to have to fight this guy twice in one day. This time, she would kick his ass.

But Chopper stopped her before she could even take a step, moving in between her and Zima.

"I'll handle this," he said. "Luffy, please go on without me."

Luffy nodded without hesitation. "Okay!"

"Wha—wait!" Deirdre protested. "Doctor-chan, are you serious?"

Robin already had her hand on Deirdre's shoulder, ready to pull her out of harm's way. "I wouldn't underestimate Chopper, Deirdre-san."

But she wasn't underestimating him—really, she wasn't. His aura gave her plenty enough proof that he could handle himself. What got to her was his opponent. Fighting Zima was _her_ responsibility.

How many people were going to fight her battles today?

"Deirdre-san," Chopper said, his determined expression stopping any further protests, "Look in the bottom right hand pocket of my bag, please."

Obediently she rummaged in his bag, pulling out a shining pink ball the size of a large marble. "Doctor-chan, what—," she started, but was interrupted.

"Take it with you," he said. "I hope you don't have to use it. Now go!"

And with that, he shoved her into Luffy's arms and through the doorway.

* * *

Chopper turned to face the man called Zima, the one who had given Deirdre the huge gash in her stomach. With one look he could tell Zima was fairly injured; he favored his left leg, and a good amount of bandages covered his arms and head. Deirdre had managed to get some good blows in during their fight, it seemed.

Well, now it was his turn.

As a doctor and a former weakling, Chopper was loath to resort to violence. But once he deemed it necessary, there was no way he'd stop until his opponent was beaten. And this guy certainly deserved a beating for what he'd done to Deirdre, let alone what he must have done as Popov's lackey.

He spared a glance to the archway—Deirdre, Robin, and Luffy were safely into the next section of tunnel, out of Zima's reach.

Zima eyed him thoughtfully (a look which did not fit the gigantic man at all). "Why do you help her?" he asked curiously.

"She's my friend," Chopper replied simply. "Why are you trying to stop her?"

"She stole our cargo. She must be punished."

Chopper glared, wordless. Deirdre had been right; Zima was a monster. He wasn't going to feel any remorse for kicking his ass.

* * *

The light from Robin's lantern bounced wildly across the walls as she and Luffy scampered down mineshaft four. The ground was much rockier here—Deirdre assumed it must've been closed off for repairs or something.

Luffy had tried to readjust his grip on Deirdre, stretching one of his arms around her waist and holding her aloft, but after she'd (involuntarily) gasped in pain he went back to holding her like a normal human being. Now he was holding her (rather indelicately) bridal-style, careful not to get cut by her axe.

"Sorry Deirdre," Luffy apologized quickly.

Deirdre's face burned with embarrassment, and she silently vowed to never get injured ever again.

"First Zoro-kun, now this," she muttered.

Luffy looked down at her. "Eh? Don't tell me I ripped your stitches?"

Deirdre could only shake her head and try to swallow her embarrassment. "Nope! It's nothing. Just keep going."

Robin hid a small, knowing grin.

"Deirdre, how much farther?"

She took a deep breath, trying to push past her emotions to sense her sisters again. The auras were stronger now—close enough for her to know that they were even more scared than she was.

She grimaced. "We're maybe a quarter mile away—but they're deeper in the mountain."

"There's probably an elevator up ahead," Robin said.

"Okay," Luffy said, hopping over a fallen beam. "Quick question though; what was the plan again?"

"We get my sisters back," Deirdre replied. "And take out anyone that gets in the way."

"Good plan."

"Thanks."

They kept going, farther into the mountainside than Deirdre had ever imagined. The rock face seemed endless, and Deirdre was once again glad for Luffy and the others. Even if she could have done this all by herself, she was grateful that she didn't have to. She wasn't sure she could have handled being alone in the mines, even for her family's sake.

This was where her parents died. It could have been in this very tunnel. She could have walked right past their bodies, buried deep in the walls.

The thought made her nauseous.

She readjusted her grip on Reaver, taking comfort once again in the worn smoothness of its handle. Her parents would not want her to be afraid. Not of ghosts, not of the mines, and definitely not of Popov. Fear was only a hindrance, Romola had always said. Fear gets in the way.

Nothing was going to stop her. She would end this tonight if it were her last act on earth.

Robin had guessed correctly—within a few minutes they reached an elevator that was not nearly as old and rough as the rest of the mines. The dull metal bars of the door looked brand new in comparison to the rusty lantern in Robin's hand. It was small, with just enough room to hold all three of them.

Once inside, Deirdre squirmed out of Luffy's hold. "I can stand on my own, you know," she grunted stubbornly. She could only stand being carried so much.

He let her go, and she stood, leaning against Reaver's handle.

Robin pulled a lever marked 'DOWN'—and whatever force was holding them up suddenly disappeared as the elevator dropped like a stone.

For a moment everything was chaos. Deirdre's stomach flipped, and she clutched at whatever was closest (which happened to be Luffy's coat). Luffy barked a laugh in surprise as he was lifted into the air.

"Whoa!"

"Shit!"

Thinking fast, Robin crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Cienta Fleur!" she commanded. Almost instantaneously, dozens of arms sprouted from the stone of the elevator shaft and clutched at the walls of the elevator, stopping its fall immediately.

The three of them landed on the elevator floor with a thud, the impact knocking the wind from Deirdre's lungs. She wheezed, trying to sit up.

"Sorry," Robin grunted, rubbing the back of her head. "Let's go down a little slower this time." She was silent after that, focusing on guiding the elevator down at a non-breakneck speed.

Deirdre peered up through the roof of the elevator at the suspension cables. Instead of stretching upward and connecting to the ceiling like the rest, one was suspiciously short and frayed.

"That bastard cut the ropes," she groaned, her lungs still burning. "Must be going the right way then."

Luffy stood and stretched. "Pretty fun though."

Deirdre snorted.

The fall had taken them a little less than halfway down the elevator shaft, and it took no more than two or three minutes to get to the bottom. Robin's extra hands set the elevator car down with a jolt, almost making Deirdre fall over again. Once back on solid ground, the door creaked open and they stepped out.

"Should I carry you again, Deirdre?" Luffy asked.

"You should save your strength, Deirdre-san," Robin advised. Deirdre could see her mouth twitch as she tried to hide a smile. Deirdre huffed.

"Whatever," she sighed. "Let's just get going."

She took a step forward, resigned to once again be carried like a child—

An explosion shook the tunnel. Deirdre's knees buckled even as the shaft began collapsing in on itself. The stone under her feet split and crumbled. She saw Luffy and Robin reaching out to her, saw them shouting, tried to reach back—then the blackness swallowed her whole.


	6. You Dorans are so Predictable

Their parent's death had brought new realizations upon the Doran girls—food was expensive and work was scarce. In desperation Deirdre had spent more than a year doing odd jobs around the island; mostly exhausting menial labor and the tasks no one else wanted.

And then Popov found out about Deirdre's 'power', and their lives seemed to be turning around.

Zima, one of his men, had seen her transform to haul a cart up the mountainside, and told his boss about the oldest Doran girl. Popov knew of the girls—he had been the one to show up at their doorstep five years ago to tell them of Yuli and Romola's demise. He hadn't given them much thought past that, though—until the day he approached Deirdre about working for him.

"Just a job escorting some cargo," he'd said, and Deirdre had believed him. All she had to do was deliver the goods and make sure they weren't stolen or harmed. Simple and easy. Sure, she'd be away from home for weeks at a time, but Gerti was twelve by then and old enough to run things while she was away. Besides, there were enough rumors about the Dorans that no one would try to bother them.

Gerti hated it—hated that Deirdre was gone so much, that she was in charge now, that she had all this responsibility over the younger girls (now only eight and four years old) when she was still a child herself. She had begged Deirdre not to leave—they could live off the orchard and the herb garden, forage and hunt for food even more than they already did.

But no, they needed the money, and this was the best job Deirdre was going to get on this godforsaken island. So Gerti swallowed her complaints and did the best she could at raising her sisters.

She took up shooting—first for self-defense, then because it was a way to unwind. Her mother's twin pistols had originally been a part of her parents' shrine, but they all decided that Romola would have wanted her to use them. So she did; by the time she was fifteen she could shoot any target within two hundred meters.

The youngest two girls had grown up well, despite the odds. Orma was a certified genius; she took to languages and codes like a fish to water, and could remember virtually anything she read. Appi, as it turned out, had a knack for the mechanical; she could take apart and reassemble nearly anything, from a New World log pose to the old grandfather clock in the living room. She had tried to fix Yuli's old camera, but quickly found it too old and rusted to work properly—so back on the shrine it went. Gerti often wondered if their respective hobbies developed to cope with being orphans (hers certainly had).

Life on the homestead was quiet, though somewhat strained. Deirdre spent all the time she could at home, working in the orchard, chopping wood, and resting between jobs. Gerti did her best while in charge to keep them on track, keeping to the planting, pruning, and jarring schedule so they would have enough food for the winter. Every month Deirdre brought a large box of supplies, bought on her way back home.

And then one day Deirdre came home with a bloody lip—she'd found out the truth about her job. Her confrontation with Popov had gone horribly. Now their lives were just a bit more complicated.

Gerti and Deirdre had argued for weeks after the secret came out; Gerti adamant that Deirdre should quit immediately, forget the damn money. And Deirdre had wanted to agree with her—but Popov's threats had scared her in a way she hadn't been in years.

She couldn't risk their lives. Yes, it was wrong, and every payday felt like someone was dragging her down to hell because it was _tainted money_ , and she wanted more than anything to be free of Popov and every lowlife bastard on this godforsaken island. But she just wasn't strong enough—too weak to kill Popov, too weak to run away.

She was trapped.

Once again, Gerti gave in. She hadn't seen Deirdre cry that much in a long time. She decided then and there to keep supporting her as best she could, no matter what.

They were lucky they had the bunker—it was the perfect place to hide a smuggled Fishman girl. Within a few months there were two more; then four, then seven. Finally, eight ex-slaves were living, hidden, in the bunker not five miles from the homestead. Deirdre faked several of the girls' deaths, and managed to convince Zima and Popov that rival slave traders had stolen the others.

What disturbed Gerti the most was the fact they were all girls. Deirdre soberly confirmed her suspicions—of all the slaves she had seen and attempted to save, none were male, and none were older than eighteen. She'd heard that Popov had even gotten a few for himself. The thought made Gerti physically sick. She didn't tell Orma and Appi, but she had a hunch they'd figured it out too.

For almost a year, life continued like that—Deirdre splitting her life between home, work, and her new fugitive family. Gerti knew it wore on her more than she let on, but she never mentioned it. Deirdre rarely complained to those in her care, and even then she played it off as something minor. But they all knew they were living on a wire—one false step, and they would all be in deep trouble. So they came up with emergency plans, recited over and over until all of them had it memorized: if something goes wrong, stay in the bunker.

As expected, things went wrong.

The first day Deirdre had gone missing, Gerti had stayed strong. "Don't worry," she had told Orma and Appi. "She'll be home before you know it."

She hadn't.

They knew she was on a job. She had told them her destination—some island further up the Grand Line, about four days away. She'd been gone nine days already, which wasn't unusual. Deirdre's normal schedule was about two weeks at home, and then about a week and a half on a job accompanying 'cargo.' As far as the jobs went, nine days was on the shorter end of the spectrum—she'd once been on a job for almost three. If she were late, she would always send word.

No word came.

The second day was tense. It was apple season, so they had tried to work in the orchard—but they were so distracted with anxiety that they barely filled a single barrel. The herb garden had gone completely untended. The three spent the night huddled in their parents' (now Deirdre's) bed.

The third day was the last straw.

"If she doesn't get home by dinner, we're going to the bunker," Gerti decided. They packed their emergency kits—leather packs containing a change of clothes, enough food for three days, and other sundry survival items. Gerti kept her pistols unstrapped in their holsters, ready to shoot at a moment's notice.

Dinnertime came and went, though they were all too anxious to eat. Instead they focused on their packs and planning the best route to the bunker. Appi spotted the first goon right as the three were about to leave.

"Bad guys!" she had nearly shrieked, clattering from her perch at the windowsill to grab her pack.

"Out the back door," Gerti said briskly. "Let's go."

Orma snatched the picture of their parents from the shrine and scribbled a quick note, and then they were out into the woods.

It would have worked, too, if they hadn't been caught. But they had, and now the three of them were stuck farther in the mines than they'd ever feared to be, their wrists and ankles tied, waiting for Deirdre to come and be killed for her trouble.

They'd kept quiet, mostly—until they saw Popov push a lever and felt an explosion shake the ground below them.

"What the hell?!" Gerti bellowed. "Are you _insane_?!"

"You're going to kill all of us!" Orma shrieked, jerking her head in terror. "The mines will collapse!"

Appi just kept crying, too upset for words. She leaned her small head into Gerti's lap as she wept. Gerti wished she had a power like Deirdre's; so that she could escape her bonds and rip Popov's head from his shoulders. Her pistols were out of reach in a goon's pocket, useless.

A few of the men voiced similar concerns, earning a swift kick from Utkin (another man identified by Deirdre's descriptions).

"Oh, pipe down," Popov growled. "It's in a different shaft completely—there's no way it'd reach all the way down here."

Orma looked dubious. "That's not how it _works_ ," she whispered, frustrated. "If he sets off another explosion, there's no telling how it would affect the mountain—especially if it's bigger than that one. This whole place could come down."

"Hey, you bastard!" Gerti shouted. "Why are you trying to kill Deirdre-nee? Don't you want her alive?"

"Not particularly," Popov said. He sat down on a crate, plucking a diamond chunk from within and playing with it. "She's become a liability I can't afford anymore, I've decided." He spoke as if deciding what to eat for breakfast.

"But what about the girls? The ones you want back?"

"There's only so many places on the island to hide eight people," he said. "And I have a hunch that you three already know where they are."

The blood drained from Gerti's face.

He laughed—a grating, chilling sound. "I knew it. You Dorans are so predictable! I swear, getting you people to enter the mines is too easy. Scamming _kids_ is harder than killing you people off."

Gerti's blood ran cold. A mix of fear and rage filled her veins even as the gut feeling solidified in her mind—their parents' death was no accident.

" _What did you just say_?"

* * *

Rocks tumbled from the ceiling as the ground shook. After a moment, it stilled, and Chopper just barely managed to keep his balance.

Oddly, Zima didn't seem all that surprised by the explosion (Chopper was fairly certain it was either that or a relatively small earthquake). Had he known beforehand? Or was he just the kind of man that kept a straight face while the world collapsed around him?

Either way, Chopper had a bad feeling.

Their fight was going about as well as he'd expected; Zima's injured leg made him slow to react, but his raw strength was still formidable. His claws were especially dangerous, and had already left several deep gouges in the mineshaft walls.

Chopper had managed so far to only have minor injuries—a few bruises and cuts, but nothing he hadn't dealt with before. He'd stuck with his natural form and mostly played defense—after all, his goal was simply to hold the bear off until the others got out of the mines.

So far his plan was working…mostly. He'd hoped that Zima would lose his patience and get sloppy, but apparently the man had better self-discipline than Chopper guessed. Either way, it was mostly a matter of speed, and Chopper definitely had the upper hand.

"This can't go on forever," Zima said during a slow moment, a hint of a pant in his thick voice. "Sooner or later, you will be crushed."

"You're underestimating how much a reindeer can run," Chopper quipped. "Besides, you're the ones destabilizing the mineshaft."

Deirdre had mentioned Zima's sadistic streak—he liked to inflict some psychological damage along with the physical. Unfortunately for her, Zima had known exactly which threads pulled her apart, and he yanked them with terrifying accuracy. Chopper supposed that's why Zima had made so many pointed comments about his appearance and fighting ability—he was trying to find a weak point to exploit.

Well, he wasn't going to get any. Chopper had stopped caring what others thought of him a long time ago (aside from his crewmates, that is).

"Not my idea," Zima grumbled. "I would have just killed you all outside mines and hang your bodies from cliffs. But the boss likes it in here, so I squash you here." He lunged again mid-sentence.

"Yeah, I don't think so," Chopper said, simultaneously switching tactics and forms. Deftly, he dodged Zima's outstretched arm and delivered two lightning-fast blows to the wrist and forearm in his kung fu point. He could feel bones breaking from the impact, and Zima's grunt of pain assured him of the hit.

Playing defense was up; it was time to do some real damage.

* * *

The stockade was beginning to irritate Zoro's wrists. It had only been about an hour, maybe less, but the idea of breaking out was looking better and better by the second.

Not that he doubted Deirdre and the others would return by sunup. He just didn't feel like staying in this dank, hay-smelling room for one more minute. He'd gotten Deirdre out of the town, anyway.

 _And_ why _did you do it?_ A small voice in the back of his mind asked.

He tried to dismiss the question. He'd do something like this for any of his crewmates.

 _But…Deirdre isn't a crewmate,_ it replied.

Zoro nearly growled at himself. Did he have to think about this now? Certainly there were more productive ways to spend his time. Like breaking out, for instance.

He mentally went over his options, quickly choosing brute force (trying to pick the lock would take too much effort and time). The stockade had him standing in an odd angle, but nothing he couldn't handle. Summoning a good amount of strength, Zoro shoved sideways—

—And got a few splinters for his trouble. The stockade held firm. What the hell was it made of? Iron? He inspected it more closely—nope, just wood.

Then what the hell? A piece of wood wasn't going to hold him back.

His second attempt was interrupted, however, when the door to the cell opened.

A small, older woman, maybe in her early fifties padded in. Furtively, she checked the hallway before closing the door. She turned to Zoro holding a finger to her thin lips.

"I'm not supposed to be here," she said in a low, raspy voice. "But I can't stand what's going on in this town another minute."

Zoro just looked at her, uninterested. Who was this?

"I'm Teofila, Yuli's cousin," she answered, almost as if she read his mind.

Another blank look. Teofila sighed.

"You know—Yuli Doran, Deirdre's father?" She pointed over her shoulder haltingly, as if the man were right behind her. "You're a friend of hers, right?"

Zoro hesitated. "…We're friends." Something about that didn't feel quite right, but he didn't feel like puzzling it over.

"Well that wasn't very convincing," she said drily.

"Whatever. You gonna let me out?" he asked, a little impatiently.

Teofila pursed her lips. "I don't have the key."

She must have read his expression, because she quickly backpedaled. "But I know how to pick the lock," she amended.

He gestured for her to go ahead, and she briefly fumbled in her pockets for a long, thin piece of metal and got to work.

"Things should never have gotten this far. To think they'd form a mob…!" Teofila muttered, her eyes focused on the giant padlock.

Zoro couldn't help but blurt out the one question he'd had all night. "What the hell is wrong with this town? Why do they hate Deirdre and her family so much?"

Teofila shook her head somberly. "I can't really explain the reasons. Just the rumors."

She stalled for a second, making the lock click loudly.

"Well?"

She sighed again (Zoro was starting to get the idea that she was full of them and nothing else).

"It started with her mother. Yuli had moved away from the island years before, and then one day he returned with… _her_. I think Yuli hoped Romola would be accepted as his wife. And if his father hadn't died by then, maybe she would have been welcomed. Uncle Misha was a good man who didn't judge people. But the town was wary and afraid, and soon superstitions won over decency.

We knew she was a pirate—she didn't even bother to hide it. People said she had been a part of Roger's crew, escaped from the Marines and using Yuli as refuge. Some people thought she had taken Yuli hostage. Some said she had bewitched him—and that was the rumor that took hold. After all, how could a crude, one-eyed pirate win over a nice, quiet miner's son?"

Zoro's brows furrowed as Teofila continued.

"I'm afraid the girls got the brunt of it, especially since the accident. It wasn't just Yuli and Romola who died that night. People began taking the rumors farther and farther."

"And you?" he asked, looking down at her.

Another sigh, this one long and defeated. "I… I was a prideful coward. I have a high position in this town, you see. So I…stayed quiet. I pretended like nothing was happening, like my own blood wasn't being shunned." Her gray eyes were hard, and for a second Zoro could see a family resemblance (maybe it was the eyebrows?).

"What made you change your mind?"

She scoffed. "Seeing that lunatic Hobbs pointing a gun at a girl's chest, that's what. I may be a coward, but I won't stand for a lynching. There has to be a line somewhere, and this town has crossed it."

It was Zoro's turn to scoff. That line was crossed when Deirdre had been forced to smuggle contraband just to keep her family fed. Hell, it'd probably been crossed long before and he just wasn't aware of it yet.

"Almost done," Teofila said. "I think."

She didn't catch his eye rolling with impatience.

"You people are going to help those girls, right?" she asked, her tone softer.

"Yes." They'd made a promise, and there was no going back on it now.

"Good. They deserve better than this godforsaken island."

Zoro agreed.

 _Clunk._

The padlock fell open, and Zoro immediately snapped the stockade open. Finally, he was free. His wrists stung from the splinters, but he was otherwise fine.

 _Never doing that again_ , he thought drily.

He turned to Teofila. "Do you know where they put my swords?"

"They're probably still with Hobbs," she said. "Looked like he took quite a shine to them."

"Like hell he did," Zoro muttered, already heading out of the cell. "Which way?"

The ground began to shake, interrupting the conversation. Teofila leaned heavily against the wall, clutching her chest as if having a heart attack. The tremors lasted maybe twenty seconds, and Zoro could tell from their strength that the epicenter must be at least a mile away. His instincts told him that his crew had something to do with it.

The sooner he could cut something, the better. He looked at Teofila pointedly. "Which way?" he repeated.

She caught her breath and pointed down the hallway. "He went to meet with Popov. He's probably still getting his horse ready."

Zoro was already running.

* * *

Deirdre had felt trapped before. In fact, one could argue that she had felt trapped much too often for a girl her age, and they would probably be right. She'd felt trapped that day she'd eaten the Devil's Fruit, too scared to move and too confused to revert form. She'd felt trapped the day a drunken Hobbs had cornered her in an alleyway, his words just as foul as his breath. She'd felt trapped when her parents died, and a part of her died with them in the mines. She'd felt trapped the day she learned she was an unwitting accomplice to the slave trade, standing before Popov in his office, trembling with fear and rage.

This was worse than all of those.

By some miracle she hadn't been squashed by the cave-in. Instead, she had been caught in some vaguely Deirdre-shaped crack between the stones, as if buried haphazardly by a child. She thought she was more or less upright, but it was hard to know for sure.

The dark was suffocating. Rock pressed into her from all sides, scratching and piercing her skin when she tried to move. Not that she could even move much at all—she was pinned, pure and simple. Another explosion and the mountain would crush her.

 _Was this how Mom and Dad felt?_

The thought drove her to panic, reliving her loss and nearly hyperventilating about her present situation at the same time.

 _I'm going to die here. I'm going to die in this mountain and it's all my fault._

Tears welled up. She tried to calm her breathing, knowing that her air was limited and that faster breathing meant faster death.

Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. She'd see her parents again, at least.

What would they say to her? What could she say to them?

 _Mom, Dad… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I couldn't keep them safe._

The tears fell now, unhindered.

 _No_ , she told herself. _There is no way I can let them down. I won't die. I_ can't _die. There're too many people at risk for me to give up._

She thought of her family; their faces, the bunker.

If there was one thing Deirdre had learned from growing up on a farm, it was not to quit until all the work was done. Half-assed work was unacceptable.

There was no way she'd give in now. She still had a job to do.

* * *

" _Deirdre!"_ Luffy bellowed at the spot where she had stood just seconds ago. He turned, eyes wild—only to find that Robin had disappeared too, and that a wall of rubble stood in her place.

" _Robiiiin_!" He yelled, starting to understand why Deirdre was scared of the mines so much.

Sounds of coughing echoed faintly from the other side of the debris. "Luffy?"

"Robin! Are you okay? What happened?!"

"I'm fine," she said, barely audible through the wall. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm okay—but Deirdre's gone."

"Gone?"

"She was there, and then the explosion—she fell down a hole, I think?"

"Luffy, we have to get her immediately," Robin said, her concern audible even through the wall of debris. "If she got buried too far, the pressure in this mountain could kill her."

Luffy didn't need to be told twice. He focused his haki, swiveling his head until he sensed Deirdre's presence. She was maybe six feet down and a little to his right.

"I'll meet you later, okay Robin?" he shouted, already digging. He barely heard her reply.

It seemed to take ages. Luffy's fingers weren't built for digging; they could only remove so much rock at a time. This wasn't as easy as punching a door down—he knew if he was too reckless Deirdre might get hurt. Still, he shoveled rocks aside as fast as he possibly could.

He heard a muffled voice from below him. He couldn't make out the words, but the voice was certain.

"Deirdre!" he yelled. "Just hold on!"

* * *

Robin stood, still a bit shaky from the explosion. This Popov man must be insane to set off an explosion inside the mountain. That kind of reckless abandon wasn't a good sign of their prospects. Hell, were Deirdre's sisters still even alive? If the explosion didn't kill them, Popov almost certainly would.

Luffy was busy with Deirdre, so Robin decided to head further towards their original destination.

The mineshaft was dark—her lantern lay broken at her feet. But it wasn't completely dark; a single light bobbed down the tunnel towards her. A stout, bearded man made his way along the mineshaft, stopping a few feet away.

"Who are you?" Robin asked, her throat still raspy from the dust in the air.

"I don't have to tell you anything," the man said petulantly.

Robin stared for a second. What kind of answer was that?

She was only thrown off for a second, though, and immediately crossed her arms over her chest. Two arms sprouted from the man's shoulders and put him in a choker hold. His spluttering was mildly satisfying.

"If I let go, you will tell me who you are and what's going on," she said, looking down her nose at him. "If you refuse, I'll snap your neck. Agreed?"

He nodded, wide-eyed. The arms vanished, and he bent over coughing for a moment.

"Well?"

"Damn, lady," he rasped, rubbing his throat with one hand. "Fine. Name's Krupin. I was _trying_ to get out of this damn mountain before it crushes me."

Krupin glanced darkly at the wall of rubble behind Robin. "Seems like that's gone to shit."

"More or less," Robin said. "So you knew that the explosion was coming, did you?"

Krupin froze, his eyes telling Robin everything she needed to know.

"Take me to Popov," she ordered, her pale eyes narrowed.

He gulped, but obediently turned and began walking back down the tunnel. Robin followed, already planning her next move.

Behind them, the wall of rubble receded into shadows. Before them was just as dark, and arguably more treacherous, but there was no stopping now.

* * *

 **A/N: oh geez this chapter just kept throwing rocks at me. i apologize for it being so late but i kinda lost motivation for a few months. I only started it back up again bc theres certain scenes I really want to get to lol. Critiques/comments are highly appreciated!**


	7. A Matter of Power

**a/n: Yo we're over the hump! get ready for some stuff to go sideways from here on out lol. Reviews/comments mean a lot, so please consider leaving one :0 your feedback really helps my motivation!**

Usopp stood in the kitchen (which was really just the corner of the bunker with the stove and sink), staring glumly at the towering pile of dirty dishes. He'd pulled the short straw after dinner, and was now stuck on dishwasher duty.

Thankfully he wasn't alone—one of the girls had volunteered to help him out. If he remembered right, her name was Etalind (but he couldn't be sure; she'd barely spoken a word the whole night). She was one of the youngest, but looked far too mature for her age. Usopp guessed that was a product of her past and decided not to mention it.

Together, the two of them had managed to get almost all of the dishes cleaned and dried—before everything instantly went to shit.

Without warning, the ground surrounding them began shaking violently, like the island itself was having a spasm. The floor split in two, chunks of the ceiling rained down, furniture was knocked over and smashed.

Several of the girls panicked, shrieking. The plate Usopp was holding flew from his grasp and into the quickly deepening crack in the floor.

"Let's get out of here!" Nami shouted, already opening the door to herd the nearest girls out. Various crewmembers picked up the nearest kids and made for the exit. He grabbed Etalind around the waist and booked it—it wasn't until they were a good twenty feet from the entrance that he set her down and dared to look back.

The quake was already over by then, but the damage was done. Even in the dark, it was impossible to miss. The part of the mountain that had previously held the bunker was no more—replaced by a concave slope of rubble, as if someone had popped a bubble in the side of the mountain. The heavy metal door was visible, bent at nearly a ninety-degree angle. It was a miracle they'd made it out of there at all.

He did a quick headcount—to find that they were two short. Sanji was still inside, as was Honey May.

"Shit," Usopp hissed. Sanji was strong enough to survive that, wasn't he? Honey May almost certainly wasn't, though.

He cursed again. Etalind clung to his side, shaking. He laid a hand on her head nervously, eyes glued to the rubble pile.

Nami must have done the same mental headcount, because within seconds she swung her head around, eyes wide. "Where's Sanj—" she began, but was interrupted as the side of the mountain exploded in a mountain of debris. Franky leapt in front of the group just in time, shielding them with his metal back and arms.

Sanji stepped calmly through the settling dust cloud, holding a seemingly uninjured Honey May under one arm. She waved at them, her little antennae wobbling.

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief, but the reality of the situation quickly set in; the bunker was gone, and now they had two choices: run and hide or stay and fight.

Personally, Usopp felt that running and hiding was an excellent plan, but it looked like the others had a different idea in mind.

"Wait, you guys really want to fight the goons coming after us?" Usopp asked, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice.

"What," Sanji grunted. "You saying we can't handle a couple low level thugs?" He slung Honey May over his shoulder with one hand, the other already bringing a cigarette to his lips. "I'm insulted."

"It's not a matter of power," Nami replied, her brows furrowed in contemplation. "This is different from our usual fights. We can't risk the girls getting hurt."

"'The girls' can take care of themselves," Kaske muttered.

"That may be true," Nami said. "But we don't know how many people are after you, or how well they're armed. And while I'm sure we could take them in a normal fight, you're still kids. We aren't trying to patronize you; we're trying to protect you. Now please, let us keep our promise to Deirdre."

"Nami-chwan, you're eloquent as always." The fawning look on Sanji's face (visible even at night, from a distance) made Usopp grimace. Two years away from breasts had not helped him at all—in fact, it somehow made him _worse_.

It took a few more minutes of bickering and hurt egos to finally decide on a plan of action. Grudgingly, the girls assented to making their way to the Sunny—they would only stop and fight if absolutely necessary.

As they set out into the dark woods, Usopp couldn't help but wish that necessity would never come along.

* * *

A scrabbling sound echoed above Deirdre, drawing her back to the present. She strained to listen better, and realized it was someone digging (either that, or they were just getting handsy with the rubble).

Hope rose, unbidden, in her chest as she struggled to move. Someone was still alive. She wasn't alone inside this godforsaken mountain.

"Luffy-kun?" she called out—well, tried to. Her mouth was full of dust and grit, which made the words come out as more of a grating wheeze than anything intelligible. She coughed and swallowed, trying to get some moisture down.

She could hear what sounded like Luffy's voice above her, muffled by the dirt and rocks between them. He was shouting something.

At first it was hard to tell that Luffy had breached her space—Deirdre had expected light to break through along with him, but there was none. The lanterns must have broken during the cave in, because everything was dark as pitch.

Nonetheless, the rock surrounding Deirdre was no longer closed off. Luffy's hand brushed against hers, still outstretched and stuck in place. He changed his focus, scooping the dirt and rocks away from it. His voice was still muffled by the rock, but now she could actually make out some words. Before long he'd dug to her head and shoulders, where the hole widened a bit.

She tried to speak again, but was forced into a coughing fit instead.

"Deirdre!" Luffy said, nearly shouting in relief.

Utilizing his uncanny ability, he stretched his arms down into the hole, firmly grasping her under the armpits. Deirdre clutched at his forearms with a burst of will.

It took a good amount of yanking to pull her free, and it hurt like hell. Rocks scraped her whole body, and the tension was threatening to rip her stitches right from her wound. Chopper was going to give her an earful later.

Finally, though, she was free. Scratches ran up and down her legs and arms, ruining her second set of borrowed clothes in a day. Nearly every part of her was covered in dirt and grime. One of her shoes had come off in the cave in, leaving her foot exposed to the cool air and shards of rock.

"Can you stand?" Luffy asked, crouched beside her.

"I think so," Deirdre grunted. She rose, gritting her teeth against the pain. "Yep. Standing is a go."

He frowned as she leaned heavily against the wall of the cave.

"Where's Robin-san?" she asked, not sensing anyone else with them in the darkness.

"We got separated in the earthquake. She's heading for your sisters."

She grunted. "I'm glad she's okay." She looked around, trying in vain to make anything out. "Do you have my axe?"

"Yeah, it's right here." Luffy motioned to the wall behind him (not that she could see it).

Deirdre sighed in relief—she didn't know how she'd react if Reaver had been lost as well. He handed it to her, and she took a second to rub her fingers appreciatively over the handle. It was the only truly familiar thing in this damn tunnel, and a source of calm in the midst of the dark and the chaos.

"Okay," she said firmly. "Let's go kick some ass."

The coolness of that line was severely undermined by her attempt to hobble down the tunnel, which, although invisible in the darkness, sounded an awful lot like a foal trying to walk for the first time.

"All right," Luffy said, deftly lifting her bridal-style (again). "We don't have time for you to be all stubborn."

Deirdre frowned, still frustrated that she couldn't even walk on her own. She didn't even care that he was holding her in such an intimate way—from what she could tell, Luffy simply had no sense of personal space. It was purely a means to get her out of this mountain, which was fine by her. She just wished she could have done it on her own.

"Fine," she grumbled, closing her eyes in defeat.

For a while, Luffy walked in silence—he was using mostly observation haki to navigate in the blinding dark. Deirdre wished they could go faster, but that would increase the risk of tripping (or worse) in the ruined terrain.

She stuck her hand in her pocket, trying to warm it up a bit—the temperature in the mines gradually got higher the deeper they went, but still remained quite chilly. Something hard and round brushed her fingertips, so she pulled it out. It was the marble thing Chopper had given her earlier; she'd forgotten it in the craziness of the last half hour. Curiosity overcame her, and she ventured to ask.

"Luffy-kun, do you know what this ball thing is? The one Chopper-chan gave me."

She could feel his hum radiating through his chest as he thought. "Is it pink?"

"Uh, I think so." She hadn't really gotten a good look at it before stuffing it in her pocket, but pink sounded about right. "It kinda feels like a marble, or a big candy."

"That's his rumble ball, then," Luffy said brightly. "Unless he just wanted to give you candy."

She sniffed it experimentally. It certainly smelled sweet, although she couldn't quite place the flavor.

"What's a 'rumble ball'?"

"Well, I don't get any of the science-y stuff behind it, but Chopper uses it to change into this _awesome_ form," he said. "He used to need two rumble balls to change into it, but he's gotten really good at controlling his transformations, so now he only needs one."

"An awesome form, huh?" Deirdre muttered to herself, putting the rumble ball back in her pocket. "Do you think it would work on me?"

Luffy shrugged. "I dunno. You'd have to ask Chopper."

Chopper hadn't seemed all that excited to give it to her. He'd probably meant it as a last resort—after all, she didn't know for sure it would even have an effect.

Well, it was worth trying out. Maybe it would make her strong enough to kill Popov. Maybe it would kill her. She wouldn't know until the time came.

She kept her hand in her pocket for a long time, contemplating the power of the rumble ball and the confrontation that was sure to come.

* * *

Zoro let loose a string of curses as he made his way furiously through the town. He really should have brought that old woman along and had her show him the way, but he'd been so focused on getting to Deirdre—no. No, not just to Deirdre. Luffy, Chopper, and Robin were there too.

If his damn observation haki were any good, he'd've been able to just sense one of their auras and follow that—like Deirdre had done earlier. But despite the progress he'd made in the past few months, his observation haki just wasn't up to scratch. It was useful for close proximity stuff, and that was about it.

So instead, he was stuck going in circles around this damn town.

After a few minutes he ran into Hobbs, both literally and miraculously. Zoro had been legging it down a narrow alley, peering with his good eye to find any sort of landmark to navigate by—when he knocked straight into someone, nearly sending him flying. The lantern in the man's hand gleamed, reflecting off an oddly shaped bundle on his back.

A three-sword-shaped bundle.

"You," they said in unison—Hobbs with a gasp, Zoro with a snarl.

A quick tussle ensued. Zoro wasn't the best at hand-to-hand combat—he preferred instead to use a far more lethal method—so it took longer than he'd admit to wrestle Hobbs facedown to the ground.

Zoro's knee pressed heavily into the small of Hobbs' back, near the kidneys. One hand pushed Hobbs' face (rather forcefully) into the dirt, the other already firmly grasping at the cloth of the bundle. He practically ripped it off, tearing the strap holding it closed in the process. Just as he'd thought, all three of his swords tumbled free, one of them whacking Hobbs rather nicely on the head with the metal guard.

Zoro leaned to pick them up. Hobbs thrashed suddenly, wriggling free of his grip and pulling out his gun—only to find Wado Ichimonji's blade already pointed at his throat.

"Try it," Zoro said menacingly. "I dare you."

Hobbs dropped the gun.

"Look," he said, trying to weasel his way out of the situation. "I didn't mean Doran any harm—"

"You pointed a gun at her," Zoro seethed. He was thoroughly pissed off now.

"That was just to get her to come quietly," Hobbs said. Zoro could tell he was lying through his teeth. It infuriated him how the man tried to act as if he hadn't directly influenced the situation.

Wado Ichimonji's blade inched closer.

"Okay, look look look," Hobbs stammered, "I was doing my job, alright? Being sheriff is hard in a town like this."

"Cry me a river."

"Fair. But I'm not the one you want—Popov is the one who told everybody that she killed those livestock. He's the one who offered a reward for her capture. I was just doing what the townspeople demanded."

"Your town sucks ass," Zoro retorted.

Hobbs was too preoccupied with the sword in his face to come up with a quip.

"Careful with that thing," he said, eyes focused on the point of the blade, dangerously close to his skin now.

"Give me a reason not to kill you right now," Zoro snapped. So far as he knew Hobbs wasn't evil—just an asshole. He'd rather not kill a relatively non-evil man while he was on his back and unarmed. It just didn't sit right with him.

Deirdre had been against shedding unnecessary blood, too. If he crossed that line, she'd probably hate him. Her cold, disappointed face appeared in his mind's eye, summoned by his imagination. Immediately he shrugged it off, cursing himself a little for thinking of her in such an inconvenient time.

Either way, killing was off the table for now.

Didn't mean he couldn't bluff though.

"I'll make you a deal," he said. "You take me to the mines, and I won't kill you."

"Okay," Hobbs wheezed, letting out a sigh of relief as Zoro sheathed his sword.

Zoro watched Hobbs clamber to his feet, eyebrows lowered in disdain.

"You try anything and I'll slice you in half," Zoro warned, already following him.

"Got it."

Hobbs led them to a nearby stable, where a horse-drawn cart was already waiting. He hopped into the driver's seat, taking the reins. Zoro side-eyed the animal (horses weirded him out; too big and shifty eyed, in his opinion) and climbed into the cart. Hobbs placed his lantern on a hook at the front, and they were off.

* * *

Krupin was too ambitious for his own good, and he knew it. This is what he got for trying to ditch before the job was through. Now, because he couldn't have just waited a little bit longer, he was stuck leading this very threatening woman back through the mines.

The tunnels swallowed the light from his lantern like a snake eating prey.

Popov had almost certainly noticed his absence by now, and Krupin was not looking forward to how he would be welcomed back. It would probably involve a lot of bullets.

He wondered about his new companion, but she hadn't been very forthcoming when he voiced his queries. All he got from her was a command to walk faster.

"Don't you have _anything_ to say?" he snapped, uneasy from her silence.

She glanced at him sidelong, pursing her lips as she thought.

"Fine," she said. "What do you know about Deirdre Doran and her family?"

He'd sort of expected this topic, but it still surprised him. Not what he'd thought she'd start with.

"More than I wanted to," he finally grunted. "I was stuck with the girl for eighteen months. Terrible subordinate. Always getting into fights—and when she wasn't fighting, she was full of just plain bad luck."

"Bad luck how?"

"Accidents, mostly. Falling into lakes, wagons breaking down, that sort of thing. Started a stampede, once. We nearly died."

She took a moment before speaking again.

"What about her family?"

"Dunno much," Krupin replied briskly, then stopped. "Well…"

"'Well'?" Her tone was accusing.

He let out a huff.

"I was there," he said, retrospective, "The night the Dorans came to confront him. He'd been waiting for someone to try and get in his way. Apparently him and Mrs. Doran had some bad blood between them."

"What bad blood?"

"No idea. Never asked."

She frowned, the sharp planes of her face highlighted by the lantern light. "How did they die?"

"I'm not sure, actually. I just saw the four of them go into the mines—the boss, Zima, and those two—and they never came back out."

Krupin hadn't told anyone about that night—at least, no one who didn't already know. He'd heard screaming, but that was it. Popov had emerged from the mines with a nasty cut on his face, and Zima had even lost a finger. Whatever had happened to the Dorans, they'd put up a hell of a fight.

Her eyes were hard, her tone icy. "So you just watched as two innocent people were taken to their deaths?"

"What was I supposed to do? Cross Popov and get killed for the trouble?" Krupin scowled. "If you haven't figured it out by now: he doesn't take things like that well. And not just killing; that would be too nice. No, Popov's too sadistic for that. He's a twisted bastard."

"How so?"

He snorted. "All sorts of ways. Did you know he was the one who told those girls their parents were dead? He went down personally to their house that very night and gave the news. Could've just sent one of us to do it, but I think he wanted to see the looks on their faces."

He continued, on a roll. "I dunno what he was thinking, taking that girl on. He had to 've known she would find out eventually."

It was kind of invigorating, letting this all out. Maybe he should start keeping a journal. Well, if he lived long enough to get out of this mountain.

"Whatever he's planning, it's going to be messy. He likes messy. Acts like he's full of self discipline, but don't let that fool you. I've seen his eyes after blood gets spilled."

The woman's disdainful look had not passed. "And you allowed him to drag a teenager—no, four _children_ —into this?"

Krupin sighed. Women never understood.

"'S nothing personal, all right?" he defended, passing the lantern to his other hand. "I just do what I need to survive, really. I don't hate the girl, annoying as she is. There's just no benefit in being too friendly; quite the opposite, in fact, given how this situation has turned out."

Krupin could feel her staring daggers at his back, and decided it was a good idea to just keep his mouth shut for the rest of the walk.

* * *

It was unseasonably warm the day Yuli and Romola died. Harvest time was well underway, so the entire Doran family was busy working. Gerti and Orma picked up windfall apples ripe for the compost heap, giggling and cracking jokes while they worked. Smells of Deirdre's cooking wafted from the cottage, reminding them of the anticipated meal. Their parents were up in the branches, carefully picking the best fruit. They had already harvested several bushels, which sat in large crates at the edge of the orchard. In two days they would pack the crates onto a cart and pull it to the docks, where it would be shipped to several nearby islands. The leftover crop would be stored, either on drying racks or in canning jars.

"The henhouse needs cleaning, dear," Yuli said, calling to his wife. "Whose turn is it this time?" He straddled the lowest branch of a tree that was nearly a decade older than he was, and that wasn't even the oldest in the orchard.

"Gerti's, I think," Romola replied, expertly picking fruit from the second highest branch.

Gerti groaned from the bottom of the tree. "Can't Deirdre do it? She hasn't had to clean the henhouse in ages," she whined, tossing a rather squishy apple into her basket.

"Deirdre's job is babysitting Appi," Romola said, stopping to look down at her daughter. "And Appi needs cleaning more often than the henhouse, don't you think?"

Gerti sighed in defeat. "Do I have to do it now?"

"Not right now," Yuli called down, plucking the last apple from the tree. "After the windfall's been cleared away." He descended nimbly, dropping to the ground with a rather large basket in hand.

Clearing the orchard took another half hour, and the chores continued from there. After the windfall apples were moved to the compost heap, the fallen leaves needed to be raked, then the leaves moved to the heap, then the herb garden needed weeding (and the weeds moved to the heap), then the fence needed fixing; and so on and so on into infinity. There was always something to do on the farm.

Dinner was served just before dusk; small loaves of homemade bread stuffed with bits of potato, cheese, and eggs. Deirdre had even prepared dessert: baked apple slices spiced with cinnamon. It was well received by everyone, earning its spot in the recipe box kept in the kitchen.

Yuli tucked the girls into bed that night, afterwards joining his wife in the living room.

Romola had taken off her eyepatch, turning it over in her callused hands. She didn't look up when he sat next to her on the couch. Even after fifteen years together, the occasional bout of self-consciousness about her missing eye would overtake her.

"You don't have to worry," he said gently, guessing at his wife's thoughts. "They're not going to get into bloody battles like you did."

Romola sighed, finally turning to face him. Her empty eye socket had stopped unnerving him more than a decade ago—and honestly, he thought she was beautiful with it. It was a testament to just how far she would go for the ones she loved, for how strong and resilient she was. To see this same woman look at him with anxiety made his heart wrench.

"I'm not so sure about that anymore," she replied grimly. "Not with that bastard nearby."

Ah. That's what had her so worried, then.

"That Popov guy, right?" Yuli had only heard her mention him briefly, when talking about her past as a pirate.

"He's a wicked man, Yushka. Even by pirate standards. I've told you about him, right?"

He had to force himself not to grin when she called him Yushka—to think that nickname had lasted sixteen years made him childishly happy. It was intimate, loving; something she only said when they were alone.

"You did," he answered, all hints of levity wiped away. "I agree."

"He can't be up to anything good. Did you hear of how he wants to reopen the mines?"

"The city council won't allow it," Yuli said, the words sounding hollow. Money had been tight for decades on the island—it was likely the councilmen would agree to anything, if offered a high enough amount. And Popov seemed to bring enough connections to make that a possibility.

Romola stood abruptly, returning her eyepatch to its place. "I'm going to kick him off our island," she said with finality, striding to pick Reaver up from its setting over the fireplace. "I won't allow a man like him near our children."

Yuli leapt up behind her, grabbing her arm.

"Don't try to stop me, Yuli," she said. Her eye glinted in the candlelight.

He sighed. "You know I won't."

"Good—"

"I'm going with you."

She looked him over for a second, searching for something. Apparently she found it, since she nodded and walked out the door.

The moon was new that night, so they traveled by lantern light. At some point in the walk her hand slipped into his, squeezing with an anxiety she hadn't felt in years.

Popov's camp-slash-unofficial-headquarters was close to the main mine entrance, a circle of expansive tents around a still-burning fire. Several large men stood at the edge of camp, warily watching them approach.

Romola didn't bother with greetings. "Where's Popov?" she asked, her tone demanding. She wasn't intimidated by the hulking men surrounding her, which made Yuli feel a lot better about it. Their hands were still joined, and she gave him a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

A figure emerged from the largest tent, backlit by the fire as he walked towards them. Popov was a rather tall, skinny man, but not physically imposing. He was a pale, dirty blonde, and for some reason thought a mullet was a good look. He wore an old fashioned Marine's uniform—white shirt and dark pants, differing from the current one only by the cut of the sleeves and collar. So he was an ex-Marine, then? Unexpected, but not entirely surprising. A fair number of Marines were corrupt, same as any profession—only these ones usually did more harm.

Popov held himself like royalty, looking down his thin nose at his visitors. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, followed by a smug grin.

"Ah, if it isn't Romola Strandew," he said, arms wide in an almost mocking manner. "Oh, I heard you got married—how rude of me. This your husband, then?"

Neither of them dignified him with an answer. Romola got straight to the point.

"Why are you here, Popov?"

"To revitalize this island's economy," he said, as if it was obvious. "I see great potential in this mountain."

"You and every other greedy bottom-feeder," Yuli muttered, unable (and partially unwilling) to stop himself.

"So you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart, are you?"

"Of course, I will be getting a percentage of the profits—" Popov began, tilting his head innocently.

Unconvinced, Romola folded her arms.

"You have to know how dangerous the mines are—how many people have died inside that mountain."

"We won't force anyone to work in the mines."

"So it's either risk their neck working for you or risk poverty and starvation," Yuli shot, louder than he meant to. He wasn't predisposed to confrontation (in fact, he hated it), and the tension was making him a little jumpier than he preferred. Romola glanced at him, her face a mixture of gratitude and frustration.

"People have a right to choose their own profession," Popov replied simply, as if that cleared up the matter.

"There are other ways to revitalize this island," she said. "Ones with lower mortality rates."

"I don't see anyone else making an effort."

That pissed her off. Everyone on the island was barely scraping by, eking out a living however they could. The insult stung, and she bit out a scathing threat in return.

"I know you're up to something, Popov. And the _second_ I figure it out, you are dead."

Popov's smile remained placid, but his eyes barely concealed his malice.

"The only thing I am up to is working on returning these mines to operating conditions," he said evenly. He extended an arm in faux exasperation. "And we would appreciate it if you left us to our work."

"Really, at this time of night?" This surprised them both—Popov must be working on a tighter schedule than they had imagined.

"Mining's hard work," he said, condescending in both tone and posture. "Lots of fiddly little details." He waved his fingers at them, as if playing a piano or shooing them off.

Romola would not be budged, and Yuli stayed steadfast beside his wife.

Popov heaved a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes.

"Still don't believe me?"

"Hell hasn't frozen over just yet," Romola said dryly.

"Look—why don't you come check it out yourself?" Popov gestured towards the mines' entrance.

Romola turned to her husband, turning back when he nodded, and narrowed her eyes.

"On one condition."

* * *

Yuli hadn't been inside the mines in nearly two decades. Stepping inside that mineshaft was like going back in time; everything was the same. The stale air, the scent of metal and grit and sweat, and the way the lantern light reflected off the stone. Lines scored the wall, making a crosshatched pattern as far as the eye could see. Pickaxe lines; a record of the generations of miners who had passed through this very space, layered so tightly together that the walls look nearly smooth.

Several townspeople were already inside the tunnels, a large sheet of paper held out between them. They barely spared a glance as the four of them entered, too engrossed in the conversation.

"—Sure this is a viable layout?" one of the women asked, gesturing to the drawings. "We won't have a repeat disaster?"

"Dearie, this setup is revolutionary. We're gonna have state of the art machinery in here monitoring everything—air composition, temperature, stability—anything you can think of, we've got a plan on how to keep the tunnels safe."

"And how are we going to pay for this equipment?" someone else asked, disbelief clear in their voice. A few people grunted in agreement.

Popov stepped into the middle of the ring, his hands up in a placating gesture. "Gentlemen, ladies, please—once this mine starts running again, it'll pay for itself in no time. Diamonds are big right now—I've heard that even Celestial Dragons are looking to buy some. This island's got the purest diamond supply in the Grand Line, even on par with gems from West Blue. This is an opportunity you can't afford to miss."

The group seemed to take his words at face value, nodding in contemplation. He turned to the Dorans, holding his hands out as if to say, _See? These people believe me._

Romola's expression hadn't changed since entering the mines. Yuli could see the determination in her face. She wasn't backing down.

"I'm giving you one chance, Popov," she said, voice echoing impressively off the surrounding rocks. "Leave peacefully, or I'll have to use force."

Popov laughed, then. It started as a snort, then a chuckle, then devolved into full-blown giggles as he nearly doubled over. The sight gave Yuli pause. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut.

Romola felt it too—they exchanged an uneasy glance.

Some of the others looked confused, others (the ones with good sense, apparently) nervous.

Popov straightened, wiping a tear from his grinning face. "Ohhh, Romola," he said, still smiling smugly. "Your sense of humor never fails me."

The smile dropped. "I see you're still as hardheaded as ever."

Silence rang out through the air, empty but for the shuffling of feet.

Yuli's gut practically screamed at him. They needed to get out of here, _now_. He glanced towards the exit—which was blocked by Zima's menacing silhouette.

Romola brandished Reaver, leveling the blade at Popov's head.

He tsked. "Nuh-uh-uh. You aren't getting out of here that easily."

Romola nearly growled. "You won't stop us. We're leaving, even if it kills us."

"Darling," Popov drawled, drawing a pistol from his pocket and cocking the hammer. "That was the plan all along."

* * *

The sound of Luffy's sandals flapping against the dirt floor was almost hypnotic—or rather, it would be, if it weren't so annoying. Deirdre hated flip-flops.

Her exhaustion was starting to make her irritable, but she tried her best to stave it off. No use in wasting energy. She had to focus on more important things than the way flip-flops echoing made her want to rip the shoes from his feet.

She forced herself to take a deep breath, thinking hard about her goals. They were heading towards her sisters. They would rescue them, obliterate Popov and his men, and then they would get out of this godforsaken mountain and off this island. She wasn't sure what exactly would come next, but it sure as hell included getting as far away from Diamond City as fast as humanely possible. She would rent a rowboat, if necessary.

Thinking about the plan (using that term rather loosely) made her start wondering. The question burned on her tongue, and she chewed on it for a minute, drawing up the nerve to ask.

"Luffy-kun," Deirdre said softly, "Why are you doing this…?"

He glanced down at her in the darkness as she continued.

"I just don't get it. For years I've had to con people into helping us, but you—even though I'm causing you guys so much trouble…" she coughed, feeling the grit in her mouth and throat.

Luffy didn't answer for a long moment. Deirdre wondered what expression he had on his face.

When he finally did speak, his tone was serious.

"I know what it's like to lose your family," he said. "I don't want anyone else to go through that."

She struggled for words. "Oh, hell. I'm so sorry."

She could feel him shake his head a little, as if to assure her he was all right now. "You're a lot like my brothers, you know," he said, voice lighter. "I think you woulda liked 'em."

"If they're anything like you, then I think so too." Deirdre smiled a little, despite herself.

This whole crew continued to amaze her. These people were supposed to be pirates, right? But somehow, they were the most supportive and caring people she had met in ages. Deirdre remembered her mother's stories about her days as a pirate—none of them had been so emotional (at least, not until she met Yuli). These people were definitely an enigma—one that somehow managed to make her feel at home with near strangers.

Zoro had been the first, but she knew instinctively that if she had met them all at once it would have been the same. It made her miss her parents, but at the same time it made their passing a little bit easier to bear.

 _Surround yourself with good people_ , her parents had told her. _People who will lift you up and push you forward._

Finally, Deirdre had found them. She had been at her lowest point, that day. She'd embraced death as she flew into the water. But they had grabbed her, brought her aboard and healed her wounds. Now they were bringing her forward, helping her fight. They were keeping her family alive, literally and figuratively.

Deirdre fought back tears—she was exhausted, but this was almost over. Her sisters were so close. She would destroy Popov, and this nightmare would end.

The sound of Luffy's footsteps echoed around them as the tunnel widened, and he stopped.

"I can feel people right around the bend," he whispered. "Are your sisters there?"

Deirdre closed her eyes, focusing her mind. "Yeah. They're in there. Maybe a hundred feet away, two o'clock." Her head perked up. "So's Robin-san."

He nodded. "Yeah, I feel her too."

Luffy put her down lightly, still holding her waist to keep her upright. She froze. "Popov's here too," she breathed, clenching at his jacket. Anticipation and adrenaline rose in her veins.

"This ends here," she muttered, before lunging around the bend and into the light.


	8. She's Doing This for Us, You Know

**AN: Wow this chapter took a long time to write... fight scenes are hard, guys. Leave a review/comment if you can! it really helps motivate me to work on this on top of college**

* * *

Franky checked his watch (hidden in a small compartment in his left forearm) and held back a sigh when he saw the time. It was already past two in the morning. Who knew how long they could keep these kids awake and moving? Moving through the woods undetected in the dark was tedious work.

They just had to hold out until Luffy and the others brought back the rest of Deirdre's family, and then they'd be out of here. At least, that's what they kept telling themselves.

"How much farther til we reach the Sunny?" he asked Nami, plucking Honey May from her arms so she could pull out the makeshift map. She glanced at it, then up at the mountain.

"Maybe another hour? It's not like these woods have road signs." She sighed. "It might even take longer, since we're trying to evade notice."

"We can manage another hour," Griska assured her. "It's been too long since we got to be outside, anyway."

"Yeah. Deirdre-nee was right about keeping us in the bunker, though," Koske replied. "But I, for one, am never going back underground for as long as I live."

Krissa sighed. "If we get caught, that might not be too long."

"You won't get caught," Nami assured them. "That's why we're here."

Eventually, their trek brought them to the river's edge, the water glittering in the reflected moonlight. The river was about thirty feet wide at its narrowest point, with not a bridge in sight. Downriver about a hundred yards away stood a small lookout tower, big enough to hold maybe twenty men. According to Deirdre, there were always at least two men on lookout, and each tower was equipped with top-of-the-line alarm systems. Popov didn't skimp when it came to security.

"Damn," Nami muttered when she caught sight of it. "We were heading a bit farther west than I'd thought…" It was unusual for her to make an error like that while navigating. She blamed it on the unfamiliar territory and the thick canopy of trees blocking her view of the stars.

"We'll just have to cross quickly and quietly, then," Franky said, setting Honey May atop his shoulders and scooping up another of the smaller girls.

Sanji tested the water, grimacing as his shoes got wet. "It looks like it's fairly shallow here, at least. Can't be more than seven feet at the deepest."

"Okay, guys," Nami said, directing their path with her arms, "time to ford the river. Can everyone swim?"

She looked around, counting the number of nodding heads.

"I'll carry you, Nami-swan!" Sanji volunteered, holding out his arms.

Nami ignored him (though it took everything in her to do so—the water looked horribly cold and unforgiving). "Okay, those of you who can't, hold on tight to someone who can. Let's go!"

Usopp picked up Etalind once again, while Nami held hands with those just barely tall enough to walk across. One by one they entered the water, hissing in breath as the icy river inched up their bodies. Lindy, the Fishman girl, seemed to have no trouble at all—in moments she moved to the front of the pack, leading the way through the freezing water.

"You okay, Brooke?" Usopp asked, watching as the skeleton man slogged through the water.

"I'm fine, hohoho," Brooke wheezed, holding his instrument case high over his head. "As long as I don't have to swim, that is. The good news is, I can't feel how cold it is! Since I'm dead, ohohoho!"

Nami hissed at them to be quiet—apparently the cold water made her snappy.

"We're gonna have to dry off soon after getting through this river," she muttered. "We can't risk getting hypothermia without Chopper here."

"Maybe we shouldn't risk it in the first place," Usopp replied.

"Well it's not like they provided us with a bridge!"

Usopp was about to hit her with a biting remark when Brooke slipped and dropped into the water with a loud splash.

"Dammit Brooke!" Nami shriek-hissed, letting go of Kanni's hand and reaching down into the water where he'd just been standing. Her hand resurfaced, dragging Brooke up by his afro. He spluttered, weakly holding up a peace sign.

"I knew you should've ridden Franky's shoulders too."

Sanji turned back to look at them. "Shit—," he started, but was cut off as a beam of light cut across the surface of the water. Distant shouts echoed through the trees as more lights followed, clearly illuminating their getaway.

"Crap," Usopp hissed. "They've seen us!"

"No duh!" Sanji said, somehow still having time to mock him even as they were trying to run through freezing water.

Lindy rushed to the other shore and clambered out, turning to wave back at them frantically. "Come on!"

They abandoned all efforts to move quietly at that point. Sanji swiftly made his way to the front of the pack, snatching the girls from Franky's shoulders as he ran.

"Should we split up once we get ashore?" Usopp asked Nami as they both dragged Brooke by the hair. He'd lost the strength to walk already, and Nami cursed his dead weight under her breath.

"I don't think so. Nobody knows how to get back to the Sunny on their own," she said, sucking in a breath as she tried not to shiver. "We're stronger as a group, anyway."

Finally they all managed to get out of the river—just as the rain of bullets began.

"Shit!" Usopp spat as he let go of Brooke's hair and beat a path into the cover of the trees. Brooke would be fine—the bullets couldn't do him that much harm, right?

Franky held back, already aiming his fist at the oncoming men. "I'll hold them back for a bit. You guys go on ahead."

He didn't have to tell Usopp twice.

* * *

Chopper could not wait to get out of these mines—he was finally getting why Deirdre had nearly forced herself to go in. They were dark and dank and falling apart. Plus there was this polar bear guy trying to kill his friends, which certainly didn't help the situation.

They were both losing strength at this point; Chopper's muscles ached and begged him to stop, and he could sense Zima getting slower and slower with each minute. The man had long since stopped wasting breath on taunts and threats.

If he could just get one more solid hit in, it would be the end of it—Chopper was sure of it. He had enough strength left for a kokutei roseo attack, which he planned to put to good use.

Where to hit, though? He scanned his opponent quickly, looking for weak spots. There was the already wounded leg, of course, which Zima had been favoring the entire time, but Chopper felt like that would be a bit of a dirty move. He'd leave that as a last resort.

Instead he aimed for the gut—maybe due to his inner sense of poetic justice. It was only fair to hit him where had so badly injured Deirdre, right?

Chopper held his wide stance, transforming quickly into his arm point. Zima had been surprised at his multitude of transformations, so Chopper had been careful to use as few as possible to avoid showing his hand. Now that hand was slammed into Zima's abdomen with the strength of a cannonball, leaving a nicely shaped sakura-petal imprint in its wake.

Zima flew backwards, letting out a wheeze of pain as the air was knocked out of him. He hit the rocks behind him and bounced off roughly, landing face first on the ground.

Chopper watched him lay there, waiting for him to get back up.

Instead he simply groaned. "To think that Doran would find friends like this," he mumbled, and then promptly passed out.

Chopper let out a small sigh of relief, giving himself a moment to recover from the fight before inspecting his surroundings closer.

He wanted to get further into the mountain and help Deirdre, Luffy, and Robin, but his path was blocked now thanks to the earthquake. He could probably bust his way through the wreckage and make his way into the mines, but he had a feeling that would be far too foolhardy. That plan of action would likely result in his own rescue, so he dropped it.

The best use of his time would be to heal himself up and wait for the others to return. He had absolute faith in Luffy and Robin—they would more than likely exit the mountain in less than an hour, all the Dorans in tow.

Chopper resigned himself to waiting for them. In the meantime, he could prepare his first aid kit and try to think of the fastest way to get back to the Sunny.

The air outside the mines was more than refreshing. The temperature was just above the freezing point, which felt marvelous against his fur. His eyes adjusted to the light quickly; compared to the darkness in the mines, the surrounding forest was practically glowing.

Somehow his pack had survived the earthquake and fight, although not without some damage. Nevertheless, he tugged out a rag and began to clean his wounds.

He was lucky—they were mostly scrapes, with one or two cuts bordering on nasty. He made sure to properly disinfect those ones before slapping a bandage over them. They stung a little, but that was par for the course. The only truly painful injury was a knot forming on the back of his head, from when he'd been slammed against the mine wall. It would take a couple days to heal, but all he could do in the meantime was take some mild painkillers.

How was Deirdre doing, he wondered? He'd given her a dose of painkillers before setting out, but it had almost certainly worn off by now. Chopper didn't envy her situation.

His thoughts turned to the rumble ball he had pressed into her hands before their parting. To be completely honest, he wasn't all that sure it would even work for her—after all; he had created it to fit his own specific needs. It could very well have no effect on another Zoan. He remained deep in thought as he wiped the dirt and grime from his fur.

The sound of hooves echoed from perhaps a hundred feet away, making his ears twitch. Who would be heading up here at this time of night?

He raised his head, sniffing a few times. Whiskey, with a whiff of sweat and metal.

"Zoro?"

"Chopper," Zoro called as a horse-drawn cart came into view. Swiftly, he hopped out of the back and jogged over, not even glancing at the man driving it. "Where's everyone else?"

"Inside the mines," he replied, failing to keep the disappointment from his voice. "I fought the polar bear guy, and then the earthquake blocked the tunnel. I thought you were gonna wait for Deirdre-san in town?"

Zoro shrugged. "I got bored."

Chopper gestured to Hobbs, who looked like he was trying to decide the fastest way to get out of the woods. "What are we gonna do with that guy?"

"Skin him, most likely," Zoro muttered drily. "You saw what an asshole he is."

"W-what?" Hobbs stammered, clenching the reins so hard his knuckles went white. "You can't skin me! We had a deal!"

Zoro ignored him. "There's some rope in the cart. That should take care of him."

"Why not just let him go?" Chopper asked; a sentiment that Hobbs echoed.

"I want his cart. And he's an asshole."

"Ah."

That apparently was enough of a reason for Chopper. His hulking demihuman form came in handy for intimidating Hobbs into obedience while he tied the man up and hung him from a sturdy tree branch. He looked like the world's lamest tree ornament, with a makeshift gag in his mouth for good measure.

"Hey, Zoro…"

Zoro leaned back against a tree, his arms behind his head. "What?"

"Are you and Deirdre-san gonna go out?"

Zoro stared down at him. " _What_ ," he said, a little more forcefully than he meant to.

"I heard Nami and Robin talking about it. They said it would be fun."

For a long second, he and Chopper stared at each other silently. Words escaped Zoro. Finally, Chopper released him from his suspense.

"Where are you gonna go?"

Zoro huffed a sigh, half in exasperation and half in relief. He didn't need Nami to gossip about this to everyone in the crew, but at least Chopper didn't get the full meaning.

"We're gonna go home, that's where."

"Really? We're bringing her with us?"

That gave Zoro pause. Would Deirdre come with them? Would she even be willing? She had eleven siblings to worry about, for one thing—they couldn't possibly take all twelve Doran girls into the crew, and he didn't see her leaving them on their own.

Luffy hadn't even demanded that she join their crew, for that matter. That was unusual for him, especially after seeing her change forms.

"That'll be up to her," he eventually replied, repressing another sigh.

"Ah. I guess so." Chopper said, spotting the marks on Zoro's wrists. "Hey, gimme your hands."

He obliged, stretching out his right arm for Chopper to inspect.

"It doesn't look too bad," Chopper said. "I'll give you some ointment for it when we get back to the _Sunny_."

"Thanks." The hand returned to its place as a pillow, and Zoro closed his eye.

"…I want her to come with us, I think." Chopper added quietly.

Zoro didn't reply tothat, and pretended to fall asleep instead.

* * *

After a good portion of the day spent looking for the Doran sisters, Robin allowed herself a small sigh of relief.

There they were—three young girls, wrists and ankles bound, huddled together about thirty feet away. Popov had his back to them, so if she could just get to them quickly and quietly…

Robin debated summoning a mouth to whisper her plan, but she worried the disembodied, talking mouth wouldn't have a quiet reaction. She'd have to sneak up to them, then.

She turned to Krupin. "Come on."

He shot her a bemused look, and she rolled her eyes. "You're gonna help me get them out of here."

Krupin sighed, then shrugged. "Whatever."

It took them a minute or so to creep over to the girls, being sure to stay out of Popov's line of sight. If the man didn't have a gun and a pile of explosives within reach Robin would have just subdued him herself, but there were too many variables to that course of action.

Finally they were within earshot, hiding behind the wooden cart. It wasn't perfect cover (anyone glancing under the cart would see their legs easy as day), but it would have to do.

"Girls," Robin said as loud as she dared, cupping a hand around her mouth. "Girls!"

The youngest one turned her head to the side in confusion, her pigtails bouncing haphazardly. She stiffened when she caught sight of Robin, tightening her grip on her sister's arm. The oldest one was next to notice, craning her neck to get a view of whatever her sister was staring at.

"Who are you?" The oldest whispered harshly, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one saw. This got the last sister's attention, and she quickly moved to block Robin's face from the guards' view.

"I'm a friend of your sister's," Robin said quickly. "We're going to get you out of here."

The youngest girl's face lit up at the news. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Robin said, smiling softly. "Now, just listen to what I tell you, okay?"

The girls nodded, and Robin couldn't help but be impressed by their resolve.

She grabbed Krupin's knife from his belt, thrusting it in the oldest girl's hands. "You three untie each other. We'll handle these guys," she said, nodding towards the handful of men keeping guard nearby.

More nods, and Robin turned to Krupin. "You can handle yourself in a fight, I hope?" she said quietly, making sure the girls didn't hear.

"I'd do better with my knife," he grumbled pointedly. "But yeah, I can knock some heads."

"Good. Remember, the goal is to get the girls out quietl—" Robin stopped, interrupted suddenly by a shriek.

She snapped her head up, instantly catching sight of the cause of the commotion.

Luffy and Deirdre were here. Well, there went her stealth plan.

* * *

The world seemed to fall away from Deirdre as she stepped into Popov's line of vision, leaving her in a sea of teeming shadows. This man had brought her family nothing but heartache and suffering. The end was coming, one way or another.

Sweat beaded on her neck and forehead in anticipation.

"Deirdre-nee!" Orma's near-scream made Deirdre snap back into reality, turning her head towards the noise.

"How nice of you to join us, Deirdre-kun," Popov said, a smug grin on his face. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."

He spoke her name like an insult, patronizing honorific and all.

Popov turned lazily to glance at Luffy. "Who's your friend?"

Deirdre didn't dignify him with an answer—her rage burned quickly up her chest and neck, pushing her to the brink of transformation. The urge was there, just beneath the surface—if she transformed, _fully_ changed, she could shred him in moments, rip him to pieces with her teeth. It was so tempting. But she remembered last time. It hadn't worked; the second the transformation took hold she'd been paralyzed. She wouldn't lose herself like that again.

The cavern was small—it only took her three seconds to sprint across into striking range. Summoning all her strength, she ran and swung Reaver high into the air, aimed right at Popov's neck. The blade glinted in the lantern light, whooshing as it sliced down—

—Popov jerked backward, and Deirdre felt the blade just barely connect with his face as she continued the arc hard into the ground. The force of her swing almost made her topple over— _damn_ Zima for incapacitating her like this. Already she was winded, pain shooting up her abdomen as she breathed. It took all her focus to stay upright.

Gerti yelled something, but the words were hazy and hard to make out. Deirdre turned her head to hear better—just in time to catch the barrel of Popov's gun with her jaw. The blow knocked her backwards, and she stumbled and cried out. Pain blinded her for a second, making her vision go white. She lost her balance, fell—

"Oi!" Luffy surged forward with a shout, catching her moments before she hit the floor. She grunted, blinking up at him; he was busy shooting a glare in Popov's direction.

"Deirdre, I'm going to kick his ass now."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "You worry about your sisters."

That shut her up. Grudgingly, she nodded.

"I've got this one," he said quietly, setting her on her feet with a hitherto unknown gentleness.

She glanced at her sisters, catching sight of Robin standing behind them. And—was that Krupin?

She blinked in surprise. He looked like he was _helping_ them…? Robin must've somehow convinced him. He finally grew enough of a spine to go against Popov's orders. Huh.

Robin caught her eye and motioned for her to stay away. She was right—there was a good chance she would just get in the way of the rescue attempt. Deirdre gave a slight nod, eyeing the guards. They were engrossed in the standoff between Luffy and Popov, thank goodness.

"Deirdre-kun, I'm disappointed," Popov said, gesturing with his gun and getting her attention. "What happened to being independent? You could at least have found someone a little less scrawny."

"Oh, shut up," she bellowed, making her wound ache with the force of it. "Cowards like you don't get to say anything about how I do things."

Popov was severely underestimating Luffy, by the looks of it. It made sense—cunning as he was, he also had quite the inflated ego. Well, he could keep underestimating them for all she cared. His mistake.

"Poop-ov," Luffy said, the look on his face convincing Deirdre that he was not actually trying to make a lame pun but had indeed already forgotten the name of his opponent, "You get one chance. Let Deirdre and her family go, and I won't kick your ass."

Popov stared bemused for a split second, then snorted a laugh. "Oh, this is rich, Deirdre-kun," he said, turning back to her. "What is he, your boyfriend? You really know how to pick 'em, don't you?"

"Oi," Luffy snapped. "I was talking to you."

Popov sneered. "And I was ignoring you, dimwit. This fight is between Deirdre-kun and I.

"Stay out of it," he said, raising his pistol and leveling it at Luffy's chest. "Or you'll end up like her parents."

Luffy's eyes, which had stared resolutely down the barrel of the gun, widened slightly at the mention of Deirdre's parents. Something in his gut told him that their deaths were connected to the current situation, and that Popov was responsible.

"Be careful, Luffy-kun," she said, mostly out of habit. If her senses were to be trusted, Luffy was strong enough to take out everyone in the mountain (and probably the mountain itself) on his own. Still, not getting shot was always a good idea.

Popov opened his mouth for another remark, but Luffy didn't give him the chance. He pulled his arm back, several feet longer than humanly possible, and sucker punched him in the face.

Deirdre had to admit; the sight of Luffy's fist connecting with Popov's nose was glorious. She was only a little bit jealous; at least, that's all she had time for at the moment.

The pain medication had completely worn off by now, and her wound sent waves of piercing pain through her torso and straight into her brain. A familiar blend of rage and desperation swirled within Deirdre, and somehow, within that tempest, a single idea rose to the forefront.

The rumble ball.

She reached quickly into her pocket, pulling out the smooth round ball (which she could now see was yellow, thanks to the light). For a moment she just stared at it, unsure. Would it even work? And if it did, to what extent? Would it make her strong enough to end this once and for all?

If there was even a chance that was true, that was enough for her. She was useless in this state.

Acting on impulse and the slim hope that Chopper's chemistry was all-inclusive, she popped the ball into her mouth.

It was overbearingly sweet, and she grimaced as the taste spread through her mouth. Trying to get it over with, she crunched on it—it made a satisfying cracking noise between her molars, and she was surprised to find it was mostly hollow. She chewed it quickly, more to get rid of the taste than to feel the effects faster. (Geez, how much sugar did Chopper put in this stuff?)

Deirdre waited for something to happen—and for about twenty seconds, nothing did. Just as she was beginning to doubt, she felt it.

It started as a tingling between her eyebrows, which spread like water down her neck and through her limbs all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. The tingling turned to pinpricks, as if her whole body had fallen asleep and was only just beginning to resume blood flow.

It sort of felt like her regular transformation, just in slow motion—until it got suddenly, horribly worse. It didn't hurt, per se—she could just _feel_ as every part of her body rearranged itself, each hair growing on her skin, her tail emerging. Hyperawareness made each second last ten years.

Deirdre could feel the control slipping away. Instincts that were usually quiet and easily suppressed now clamored for her attention, pushing her consciousness down into the depths.

She opened her mouth to curse, but only a long growl escaped her fangs.

Something in Deirdre shut off, then. A part of her went to sleep—although maybe it would be more appropriate to say it was put to sleep. A different, deeper part of her rose to replace it.

Deirdre rose to her full height, took a deep breath, and howled.

* * *

Outside the mines, chill ran down Chopper's spine.

"Did you hear that?" he asked Zoro, eyes wide.

"Yeah," Zoro said, cocking his head to the side. "Sounded like… a wolf?"

Another low rumble shook the mountain, jostling them.

Chopper cursed. "I think that's Deirdre-san."

"What?" Zoro glanced down, caught off guard by his crewmate's unusually foul language.

"I gave her a rumble ball as a last resort, just in case—"

An image of Chopper's monstrous form flashed in Zoro's mind, and he muttered an oath under his breath. "This'll be interesting, at least."

* * *

The hairs on the back of Luffy's neck prickled, halting him mid-step. Something was weird; he could sense it—

And then something behind him roared, the force of it nearly blasting him off-balance.

Deirdre's sisters screamed. Popov let out a shout of surprise, nearly dropping his gun.

Luffy whipped his head around, his jaw dropping as he took in the monstrous form behind him.

It was huge, nearly forty feet tall, and covered in red-and-white fur. It looked rad as hell, and eerily familiar. If he didn't know better, he'd say it looked an awful lot like—

Oh, _damn._

"Deirdre?!" he yelled, his eyes wide. What the hell did she do?

She didn't reply, swiveling her head in his direction. Her face contorted into a snarl, baring her fangs that were now almost as big as he was.

"Holy shit," he said, smacking a hand on top of his head. "You're huge!"

Deirdre swiped at him, catching him off guard and viciously smashing him into the rough stone wall with a loud growl.

Uh oh. Was that a rude thing to say?

* * *

Orma had never been so scared in her life. She'd seen Deirdre transform hundreds of times over the years, but not like this. Never like this.

Robin's plan to sneak out was kaput, apparently; she was sawing away at the rope binding their wrists.

"We need to get out of here, _now_ ," she said, freeing Gerti's hands and moving to her ankles. "Help your sisters."

Gerti didn't have to be told twice. She leaned over and began untying Appi's wrists.

Appi sat frozen in fear, eyes wide as she stared at their oldest sister. "What's going on?" she said in a small voice, her hands shaking. "Why is she so big? What happened to her?"

"I don't know," Orma replied, scooting closer to her sisters. "None of the books I've read on devil fruit said anything about this."

"She used a special drug to make herself stronger," Robin said quietly. "It'll wear off soon."

Orma opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Gerti cut her off. "We don't have time for questions right now, Macchan. Focus on getting out of here."

"But what about Deirdre-nee?" Appi whimpered.

"She can take care of herself," Gerti said sternly. "She's doing this for us, you know."

Appi and Orma nodded.

The sound of gunfire echoed in the chamber, followed closely by Deirdre's snarls. The guards had opened fire on her, although they quickly found it useless. Bullets affected her about as much as a bee sting—more of an annoyance than anything else.

Suddenly, the three Doran girls felt something weird wash over them—like someone was trying to smother their minds with a blanket, like they were putting out a fire. Appi's consciousness wavered, and she leaned forward as if to pass out. Gerti caught her, while Orma held her head and looked around for the source of the feeling. To the girls' surprise, all but Popov, Robin, Luffy, and Deirdre had passed out—some of them were even foaming at the mouth.

"What the hell…?" Gerti gasped, instinctively pulling the other two closer.

"You Doran girls really are something," Robin said with bemusement, already herding them towards the exit. "To think you'd be able to withstand emperor's haki at your age."

"What?" Orma asked, her brows furrowed in thorough confusion.

Robin snatched up the lantern again. "I'll explain later. Let's get out of here."

They had no complaints, and the four scurried into the tunnel.

* * *

The beast that was Deirdre Doran smelled blood. It was everywhere, sharp and metallic and intoxicating. It might have been her own, but she couldn't really tell. Her body was numb, save for the occasional pinprick. Everything looked blurry, awash in yellows and grays.

Movement from below caught her attention. She swiped at it, uncaring what it was or what damage she caused.

And then she paused, hackles raised and ears pressed back in a snarl. All the fur on her body stood on end as all her instincts screamed in rage. A fog of unknown origin descended on her mind, suffocating her thoughts. What little control remained swiftly burned away. Her eyes clouded over.

 _Kill him_ , a voice told her. _Kill them all._

* * *

The three minutes were agonizingly slow.

At least, Luffy thought it was three minutes. Chopper had told him the rough details about using the rumble ball a while ago, but Luffy hadn't really paid attention to it at the time. Now he kind of wished he'd gotten Chopper to write it down or something.

Well, he did know that the beast transformation had a time limit, even if he couldn't remember how long. As long as he could keep giant-dog-Deirdre from killing everyone for that time everything would be okay.

Easier said than done, though. Instinctively, he knew that he would have to hold back a little bit. If he went all out he would risk actually killing her (yikes), or bringing the entire mountain down on all their heads. Again.

It didn't help that Dog-dre wasn't holding back at all. Something about her demeanor changed after that first swipe—it reminded him of when Chopper had first used his beast transformation two years ago. Except, beast Chopper had operated on pure animal rage and instinct, whereas Dog-dre was simply doing all she could to tear his head off specifically.

Luffy spared a glance behind him—Deirdre's sisters and Robin had already left in one of the exit tunnels, so that left him, Dog-dre, and about twenty bad guys. Popov's men shot both at him and Dog-dre, which were easy enough for him to dodge and seemed to have no real effect on her. As far as he could tell they just sort of bounced off.

Popov himself had lowered his gun, a malicious grin on his face. Deirdre's words echoed in Luffy's mind when he saw it. He had some sort of devil fruit power—he'd taken control of her body once already. He must be doing it again.

"Bastard!" Luffy half-yelled as he dodged Dog-dre's giant teeth. "What did you do to Deirdre?!"

"Consider me an animal trainer," Popov replied smugly. He was already making his way to the exit.

"You're just gonna leave those guys to get trampled?" Luffy asked in disbelief.

Popov gave him a weird look over his shoulder. "Of course I am. They couldn't even do their job right-this is what they deserve."

That snapped it for Luffy. It was time to kick some ass.

* * *

Luffy groaned, sitting up. He felt the back of his head tenderly, grimacing at the knot already forming. Well, it was nothing new, and nothing worse than he'd had before. Still hurt, though, and he couldn't really remember the past few minutes. His brain felt a little fuzzy.

"Ugh… what happened…?"

He looked down at Deirdre's prone form, using his haki to make out any details he could in the darkness. By some miracle, she'd reverted to human form after passing out, but now she was bleeding all over the place; even worse than when she was pulled out of the ocean. Her shirt (well, one of Nami's old ones, really) was torn to shreds, clearly exposing the gash on her stomach. It was wider than before, and bits of torn thread hung from the edges.

Luffy scrambled over, furrowing his brow as he tried to think of how to stop the bleeding.

"C'mon, Deirdre," he nearly shouted in desperation. "Wake up! You can't die now!"

He opened his mouth to yell something else, but a voice cut through the darkness, interrupting him.

" _Who dares disturb the Fairy of the Mountain_?"


End file.
